Tekst piosenki
[Intro] [Verse 1: Curren$y] They be on tables like poker chips Dangled in front you by suits who assume you to be a two-bit hustler Hasty moves From the cradle to the grave might be a short walk, real talk It's just a matter of ink So many people in your ear you can't hear yourself think Your homies like do that shit Your old heads say you need to let somebody read through that shit Call up a lawyer, but an arm and a leg it cost ya just to walk through the office Consultation charges, end up taking bigger bites than your portion And you was just online looking at Porsches Now you're feeling tight hot garbage, cus your check being garnished No cool gray area about it, executives is black hearted They could care less about repossessions, disconnected cell phones Or evictions from apartments It's no country for artists Trap floor under the carpet, figured you'll fall for it Cus you're struggling and you're starving, that don't mean you're stupid Reverse the game, pull the rug from them losers, carve your own lane Stay true to your music I'm watching myself do it I saw somebody else get close to it But you know how it is, the good die young mostly over bullshit Record deals [Repeat 6x] Record deals, record deals
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