What It Look Like

[Talking:] Don't forget the drank and the weed nigga Not so much on the hoes, but really the weed though for real [Z-Ro:] If you think that Bentley means I made it, then you sadly mistaken That's just the money I saved up, another chance I was taking So many more hustles besides rapping, my ass is Jamaican Told y'all life was aiight when the money came, truth is I was faking I can't remember the last fifteen years, it's a cloud of kush smoke Port 180 and Port 12, prescriptions for some good dope Sued for this and sued for that, I made it up out my hood though I don't feel I'm really appreciated, unless I'm in my hood though Truth is, all them niggas might hate me like a mo'fucker Truth is, sometimes I even hate me like a mo'fucker Cause no matter how far I get, away from the hating Either it's fifteen minutes away from me, or it's right in my face When the fuck a stranger show you more respect, than the person you lay down with Trying to tell the person you lay down with, I hope you drown bitch When you see me without my jewelry on, in one of them foreign whips I'm never ever smiling, cause I never ever learned how to enjoy this shit [Hook:] I know what it look like, I'm on top and it's all good Truth is, I'm fifteen minutes from living back in the hood I know what it look like, I don't have a care in this world Shit but I'm sick to my stomach, from worry I just might hurl I know what it look like, I'm just having a good time Can't concentrate on the money, cause I'm losing my mind I know what it look like, I'm the man of steel God done already let me know, I'm just a man for real [Billy Brasco:] Now every time you see me, it look like I'm balling brah But you don't see my pain mayn, and the problems I got piling up I got police on my dick, now I gotta keep my antennas up But I'ma keep getting rich, that's prolly why I don't give a fuck And the streets say they need me, and this cash that I mash for But these snitch niggas so weak, they telling on they own kin folks And you gotta watch your family, cause they could be your worst enemy And we gon' make it out the hood, if you a real G then it's understood And I'm steady choking on good, better yet a lit cigarette Cause I can't take this pain mayn, letting all this stress that's on my neck And much respect for my homies, that's caught off in the struggle Keeping that tool for a fuck nigga, wan' flex his muscle And you gotta keep hustling head up, and sent two steps You think that you got it bad, my bro just for two and his kids arrest Lock my up for my videos, the police say they too real So when I see em I drop my top, and work my wood wheel And it's R.I.P. to the Pimp, and much love to that Bun That's just the life I chose, a trill nigga on the run And this only for my family son, so when them props come I'ma be a gangsta bout em, and let my hustle embrace em partna [Hook]