Intro (The 6th Man)

[Intro] Sixth man, nigga With cash like your neighborhood brick man, nigga Let these cocksuckers sleep, man Fuck ‘em [Verse] Call log filled with in-calls I don’t even need to make out-calls Everybody needs some fucking help My momma told me I would be my downfall People sleeping, like I sound like these niggas Plus the label’s playing foul ball Before I sell my soul, I’ll go to sell some bowls And they can label me a fucking outlaw Remaining humble dealing with these crackers Is like trying to pull teeth from a toddler Make you wanna walk inside their building, pull it out And put their brain right by their collar Rico Tune, they taught me chalk it up Just charge it to the game and put that shit on wax But where I’m from playing with people’s money Gets you mummy-wrapped and gets you fucking wacked That’s a fucking fact, and I ain’t used to that And my fucking jaw's sore from biting my tongue Like a vampire I can taste the blood But these painkillers got me feeling numb Since they fucking sleeping, they gon’ reap the benefits And see what happens when you unleash a beast Ungrateful ass motherfuckers Don’t appreciate it when you try to feed the streets They must not know a nigga play for keeps ‘Cause the people ‘round me gotta fucking eat Cut some niggas off, ‘cause all they did was leach And if you took it personal, feel free to leave [Interlude] (Smell me?) Fuck you and your opinion You can have your opinion about me, nigga Your opinion don’t put no money in my pocket And that goes for ex-bitches, ex-friends And for all these bloggers comparing a nigga One hit wonder… Who? [Verse 2] Fuck these critics and you fucking bloggers That be typing write-ups comparing a nigga Writing paragraphs like they fucking know you And when they come around, they just stare at a nigga And the ones who writing ain’t even rap savvy And truth be told, they really scared of niggas Make a nigga wanna grab the stick And like Brian Nichols wheelchair a nigga Two hits in one year and motherfuckers Wanna play this game and call me Bobby Johnson Fuck this rap game, and all that famous shit Fuck a record deal, just hand me my deposit I was seventeen when homicide detectives Pulled me out of class and started showing me pics And not once did I break a sweat A nigga held it down, and I ain’t tell them shit They told me all the time that I was facing Plus the list of charges and I still ain’t flinched From hooping live on ESPN To facing five and losing scholarships Then niggas started laughing when I started rapping Crazy how they took me as a joke Fast forward and now them same niggas Want to work with Que and they’re still broke [Outro] Yea, you dig? But see, I’m quick to go Hollywood on a nigga Quick to catch up in the industry Like Meek said, nigga It’s levels to this shit And I ain’t even see you, nigga We’re not on the same level We don’t fuck the same types of bitches We don’t drive the same types of cars We don’t even smoke the same type of weed, my nigga And we damned sure ain’t in the same tax bracket You dig? Straight up I don’t want to kick it, I don’t want to hang out I’m damned sure don’t want to collab, or do a song with you If we wasn’t cool back then, what makes you think we could be cool now? Come on, man do the math It’s simple— I’m three years deep in this shit, man I’ve been rapping for four First time I ever touched the mic was in two thousand eleven, nigga When I got kicked out of school—hooping, nigga Like I told y’all, I’m not ‘on lie on the Intro, nigga I’m a hooper I just switched up to hustling Don’t forget that