Don't Get Close

[Verse 1] Got niggas that will pop lights and walk off swagging Niggas that will pop lead and walk off skanking Run up in your drug spot walk of laughing Niggas got tax, but he ain't packing Now he getting jacked and his fam got to packing What happened is clueless, he's missing in action Far out in the woods like he camping I'll wet him up make it look so blasted Big bankroll when connect bring the packaging Can't believe it's not butter looks like margarine Buy what I want, does it look like im trafficking That's just one of the things im a master in Rap game master, draw guns faster, move weight quicker me and my niggers ?, we ain't into chatter Don't Get Close, get close you need a Pastor Our hopes got crushed, dreams got shattered ?, made niggas even madder We run with the hammer, we got no manner Every hood's dying of slow like cancer, cause niggas too smart The government's a scammer, we don't take part in paying these taxes Or post in the park making traps with my ratchets Money runs industry so I had to catch it The faster I move it, the quicker I stack it So I'll get to moving far in the Hamptons, but still on my goon shit Cause im not having it, I find it amusing Just cause im rapping, they think I won't back it Run up and slap it, cause they care about the industry If I make it happen, I'll put down the drugs walk to the bank laughing Don't know about the ratchet, if niggas start planning Use it for protection, not just to have it Abuse it in the section, walk off then abandon it Block off all you can eat no Mandarin 'nuff food to feed every starving African, rapping in preschool Back with the rap again, all my goons got tools we mechanics Don't Get Close, you get close you can't manage Don't get close, many more than enough men dem Six with striving, duck and dodge sirens Bad bitches riding, bad bitches grinding Roney got straps, the straps right beside him A rap beast, my brain on steroids This rap beef, I don't talk I just air boys I clap heat in the dark with the scarecrow I'll let it spark 'till it shines like white gold Hit his heart like a motherfucking chest code All black everything is my dress code I drop tracks like bombs, missiles I flip packs like food on the griddle This .4 long so long if it hits you, BAP!