Food For Thought

[Verse 1] I ain’t talking about shotguns, real rap, pop this in Trap or die on them dirt roads, talking west chopper to the west end Real rap, had a jealous nigga and a backstabber as a best friend Prayed to god less stressing, motivated, I’m up early I even Jesus doubted his best men, man’s heart ain’t trustworthy Nigga leave your ass stuck for the new wheels and truck swerving That doo doo not rim side, doo doo like [?] died Pimp C with a soft stomach, there’s food in there he’ll flip out That’s why I been focused on rap tunes, any town on the map soon I mean bring it back, shit popping, what we know for, that bafoon People used that music there when the trapper heavy, get through the A But nigga listening that type of shit, when it’s hard time to get through the day Ain’t that real [Hook][x3] People don’t use our music to get high, they use our music to get by [Verse 2] Real music, I am that, I stand for that, won’t ever fall Up late nights, and I plan for y’all, just to give you that, that Nutrigrain That soul food, broke as hell, gonna rob a nigga, might shoot ya man You listen to that, nigga tell you it’s better seeing your future man That spins on, say it’s on, put some off for your grandson Every now and then he’ll find it cause I know they fuck with your fan club All of that, and some Nigga sold y’all a fake rock then kidnap And need show money, I’m tryna pay your ransom Shawty told you you handsome, digging all in your pants on Suck and fuck get paid for it, late night she dance off Money gone she flake out, burn rubber, really saying Bitches out to take all y’all’s and the sad thing is you niggas playing So keep listening to that whack shit, any day I applaud niggas They getting money’s what the facts is, big trophies and packs in Started seeing them checks pimp, keep a tab on them taxes Cause Uncle Sam being weighing, that’s where half of all of my blacks is Ain’t that real [Hook][x3]