The Stress Factor

(Intro) Don't push me cause I'm close to the edge I'm trying not to lose my head (Verse 1) Sometimes I sit alone And look deep into my soul And I starin' down at something That's very out of control Tolerence at zero Emotions dead and gone If indo was a pebble Man, consider me stoned Patience low, I'm ret to go I gots to get ahead Motherfuck these hoes and them po-pos I gots to get my bread The streets ain't nothing nice They crooked like the itus And everybodies dippin seein Who can get the highest But check this out Man, without a doubt Ain't about who's comin fresher It's about that cash Man protect that ass Don't panic under pressure Mind snappin like a whip Or better an aligator Temper going up and down Like a fucking elevator Bitch I want it now Don't give me no delays My hustle got me trippin Listen for my Ike turner ways Man, this life is real No time to be an actor And all players that know Man, let me know Is this a Stress Factor (Verse 2) I wanna grow old Have kids and a place to sleep A down ass wife And when I die, I'll rest in peace But man that's all a dream This doja got me bleak It got me feelin good But I forgot what I did last week Man, look at my face This shit ain't fake The pain done turned to pressure Every nigga that know Man, feel me though Don't cop down to a lesser My mother woke me up one day Said "boy you gettin grown Your momma has 3 jobs Your momma's gettin old" So I took it as a hint Went on my mission spree Mind full of hatred got me fucked Cause times is hard, you see That monkey's on my back And I can't get him off So whatever I do Mom, it's for you No matter what the cost I put that on my life Everything I see is dark Money is rare but I don't care Man, stop that nigga's heart He's comin like a big wheel I'm comin like a tractor Man, taste this hate Run, it's too late Man, it's the Stress Factor (Verse 3) Some think that I'm The Man Some think my shit don't stink But yes it do I thought you knew I'm not a coward or a fink One side of my heart got love The other side is hate And boy that hate is starin love Right in it's fuckin face Women ask me how I'm livin I tell them day by day With a doja joint And that lovely voice Of Mr. Marvin Gaye Man, I gots to get away That just might do some good But every time I gets away I miss the fuckin hood My homie lost his job He don't know how to react So I do wild thangs to help him out Like juke a little crack But that shit's over-rated And it gets complicated But you'd never know From that cash flow And the way the picture's painted Motherfuckers whisper And think that I don't hear em And wonder why I'm over high And never will go near em Much love to all my niggas From workin men to jackers Cause no matter what you feel This cut is called the Stress Factor