Stressin Me

[Hook - 2x] Niggas be stressing me, niggas be testing me Taking my kindness for a weakness, in this industry Niggas be stressing me, trying to get everything for free Knowing that anything worth having, costs a pretty penny [Billy Cook] I gotta get raw, this time around dog Cause motherfuckers, thinking they can push me in the ground Just saying do anything to me, expect to know my peeps So this song goes out, to those haters who envy me My point exactly, they ain't gotta be a platinum song Just as long as you get the message, you hear in this song I got a lovely remedy, for this shit But in the face or the mind, ghetto platinum hits When you doing something right, niggas got something bad to say See I ain't trying to please, these phony busters anyway [Hook - 2x] [Billy Cook] It was some niggas on there, sure was talking about my hair Now they're broke, and they're all what living there How you gon let a nigga like me, slip through your fingers yo It's kinda like you hit the lotto, then just lost it all See I'm a ghetto platinum nigga, I'm gon shine this year Y'all can't stop what God has for me, it's so crystal clear So now sit back, relax and enjoy the ride You had yours on, now it's Cook and Trae's time Don't start none, won't be none Don't start none, won't be noooone Don't start none, won't be none Don't start none, won't be none [Hook - 2x] [Trae] Still stuck between real and fake But I'ma eliminate fake, when I beat the hate I'm on my last leg, and on the verge of clicking And these cats ain't gon learn, till they come up missing Niggas taking the help, that I give for granted Me and Cook been wrecking shit, for too long You better get your ass up, and get your stacks up Trying to roll chop for me, and get you messed up I'm sick and tired, of these wanna be fake type Industry hype, all about the limelight Living life shife, and ride a nigga dick tight Better go on, cause I'm the real nigga type And I'm squaring it off, till it's over Stress done got me, running out my mind And I put it on the line, each and every time Since they messed up my vibe, now the haters mine It ain't no more friends, ain't no more foes Ain't no more kin folk, and no more hoes Just me and the Maab, and S.L.A.B And I'ma rep my click, until the curtain close Lord knows, I'm due for earning my crown I done waited my time, and now it's going down Trae and Billy Cook, Stress the remix Life in the street niggas, better move around [Billy Cook] I ain't trying to start nothing, ya'll can feel fa sho I keeps it real can you tell, by the way I spit it yo This is the first and last time, thugging on a negative vibe I shoulda done these writing songs, are going ninety wide You think I'm talking about you, if the shoe fit wear it dog You done pissed me off, this was the last straw You whack producers who think, your tracks are the bomb I thought you knew you need a platinum, wasn't a real song I can go on and on, while all while sealing the flow See all you niggas really need me, but you don't hear me though [Hook - 2x] (Billy Cook) Yeah, hey yeeeeah Trae help me out, Trae help me out The Maab, yeeeeah BMG 1965 The click, the squad, help me out Oooo-oooooh, weeeell These niggas don't want none