Just Can't Win

Flippin' pies like Famiglia Rockin' Polo insignia Wearin' fly kicks to bed chicks Is like my signature We're never miniature respect the methods I administer Right angle pop shots bust perpendicular Street minister I'm half righteous, half-sinister Call my gun Mister Cee cause it's the finisher Bronze bags that hold red and green stripes obscene Nikes and Lo shit That's all I rock - except the 4/5th Dip like a mannequin From seven-deuce and Madison I really do the shit ya'll niggas do when you imaginin' Analyze my resume son There's no comparison Fine foods, nice shirts, specialty works Makin' more hand-to-hand sales than toll booth clerks Writin' raps without quirks, the energy that still lurks In the city that was known historically for giving merks Fuck the hand outs, I create my own perks Peace to niggas buying breakfast cause they dishing desserts Fake smiles mask emptiness, desolate smirks You usually see them painted on the face of derelict jerks That being said you won't see none of those next to me Real talk, I'm a G, keep my team sucker-free If you go that route, you owe yourself an apology Run with this jewel: consistency's the best policy Fuck jacking styles nigga, sample my biography My life barely started, fam so it doesn't bother me Plus I'm busy checking breasts Queens street mamography Fast forward next scene, hardcore pornography I love it when they deep throat tubes like an endoscopy Living life in hypocrisy is an atrocity What can I do for you depends on what you got for me I show you how to make a paper plant when you chop a tree I'm out creating win-win situations But got toast to settle confrontations, complications My mind's filled with blueprints and safe combinations I'm going to the grave with unrepeated conversations My raps pierce flesh then replenish lacerations I'll hurt you then heal you Bag you then deal you Purchase you back and give you away Just to let ya'll know ain't no fucking with Mey Bad bangin' bustin' bitches love to blow on my harmonica My niggas smoke heavy, lighting candles like it's Hannukah Minus the yarmulke, the mercury in the thermometer Couldn't measure the heat my niggas holdin' just to honor the Code of the street, all of my fleet Is what I taught ya If I'm ever under pressure they should never be shook Snatch a bar out my symphony then heat it up and cook If you could read between the lines then I could write you a book Whole-hearted half human with the mind of a crook Sometime I stare at my picture and go blind when I look Blackout moves my mind, travel to another time Free the slaves, hit they masters with a nine of a kind Then revise the laws that made being black like a crime Snap out my dream, walk back into reality It's hard being real in a world that's a fallacy I nicknamed this rap game felatio galaxy I been slapping niggas in the face when they challenge me Shake 'em down, smack 'em up, game 'em for they salary My pen is positive, it burns more than a calorie Been painting pictures, I could battle with a gallery Yo, yo And a picture's worth a thousand words I seen a thousand herbs rap about a thousand birds Frontin' fabricators got clown that embrace 'em But when they sit down with real Gs they can't face 'em My heart's racing and my brain's doing sit-ups Enjoy life, still live trife stacking my biducks Silk squares over my beard, forever plidush