Lyrics

[Intro] Chairman, he's over here (Conductor) Uh huh (Conductor, we have a problem, conductor) Mama (Uh huh) [?] real quick Stik Figa, mane [Chorus] Do my best wit' what I got, mama Made my peace wit' what I'm not, mama Load this heat, take my shot, mama Make my mark, can't take my spot [Verse 1] I heard the word on the street Frankly, I hate rumors Rose grew from concrete Maybe a late bloomer Block that Made me, made news, and it made shooters All students of the game but we ain't have the same tutors Whitney said wе was the future Was more of a class clown Skippеd algebra to count a bag Who's last laugh now? (Ha!) I ain't take a girl to prom White corsages and black gowns I was somewhere tryna stack to have somethin' to pass down Haters comb through backgrounds Look for reasons to doubt me If you on some sucka shit You gotta do that without me Now you're in Texas Where them boys pour the oil like [?] Sitcom lifestyle Enjoy the season finale To think me and my homies We used to steal out the [?] Run away from stray dogs Handle squabbles in alleys Stressed to get a gig 'Cuz you know your [?] was cloudy Now I can fix my baby's [?] whenever she feelin' pouty Proudly! [Chorus] Do my best wit' what I got, mama Made my peace wit' what I'm not, mama Load this heat, take my shot, mama Make my mark, can't take my spot Do my best wit' what I got, mama Made my peace wit' what I'm not, mama Load this heat, take my shot, mama Make my mark, can't take my spot [Verse 2] There's a fly on the wall In an airplane bungalow Chariot on the curve White wall, a hunnid' spokes Get in and ride slow Anywhere you wanna go Blow smoke out the window but please don't let my mama know Believed in everything outside myself Aside myself Can't run Can't hide myself And when you need someone to ride You can't find no help The reality become You all by yo' self It ain't no atheist in foxholes In the trenches, kickin' it with lost souls [Knew 'fore?] who would deny me before the cock crows Ain't nothin' easy, at the crossroads Learn that it burn if you touch a hot stove So it goes Ain't nothin' sacred to a grave robber Read the fine print when the devil make offers His greatest trick is convincing you he ain't bothered 'Till you descent and then you— Bitch, who made these flames hotter?