Released: September 25, 2012
Songwriter: Freddie Gibbs
Producer: DJ Dahi
[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs]
Slammin' money on my big homie commissary
Jumped on that I-65 and take that trip back to Gary
Granny just passed, my uncle out here smoking glass
But I still cook up in his crib, I gots to get to this cash
Forgive me father cause I'm so wrong
Runnin' dope through your doorstep, mom I've been doing it for so long
When the water wasn't working and the lights was off we could barely hold on
So I jumped off that porch and whipped up that yoke and got my role on
Man I had my selfish reasons, new J's and Jesus pieces
Fresh Nikes and a brand new polo
LV nigga check that logo
In the club it's like a ho show
These hoes show out for me
And the bitches in my past they just didn't know what I could be, Freddie G
Hit the booth pick up my pen and I pimp it, like write consistent
Extra lugers in the clip of my Ruger, my life extended
For at least 10 more shots should I get going or get got
But on the other hand, I got a bird landin, and a rubber band on my knot
[Hook]
I've been up, baby I've done been down
Just good enough
Ain't enough in my town
I gotta get my thang right
So I can start the day right
Cause I fucked up
Baby I been fucked round
And just good enough
Ain't enough in my town
I gotta get my thang right
So I can start the day right
[Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs]
We bendin' corners in Caprice's
Big cut dogs and Cadillacs, that dope check I'm cashin that
And I'm choking, smoking on that gasoline
Lost a hubcap on my hooptie
But my fiend just copped a teen
Had a dream that I was rich and famous all off this rapping shit
And the older niggas laughed at me, I'mma gon' make it happen bitch
In boot camp used to write my raps in my letters and send them to Roll
And say my nigga check this I'm gon' wreck shit when I get home
Dear lord we praisin' paper, really what I gotta take to make it
Pressin' up these CD's and MP3s, tryin' ta shake these haters
Plus I'm slanging just to maintain ducking investigation
Every year a nigga's only fear is the FED cases
Living in this industry enemies come with smiley faces
But I feel like fuck all these rappers they don't want no altercation
Baby face gangster, I earn my stripes out on the devil's playground
Peace to all my real niggas that stay down
[Hook x2]
Slammin' money on my big homie commissary
Jumped on that I-65 and take that trip back to Gary
Granny just passed, my uncle out here smoking glass
But I still cook up in his crib, I gots to get to this cash
Forgive me father cause I'm so wrong
Runnin' dope through your doorstep, mom I've been doing it for so long
When the water wasn't working and the lights was off we could barely hold on
So I jumped off that porch and whipped up that yoke and got my role on
Man I had my selfish reasons, new J's and Jesus pieces
Fresh Nikes and a brand new polo
LV nigga check that logo
In the club it's like a ho show
These hoes show out for me
And the bitches in my past they just didn't know what I could be, Freddie G
Hit the booth pick up my pen and I pimp it, like write consistent
Extra lugers in the clip of my Ruger, my life extended
For at least 10 more shots should I get going or get got
But on the other hand, I got a bird landin, and a rubber band on my knot
[Hook]
I've been up, baby I've done been down
Just good enough
Ain't enough in my town
I gotta get my thang right
So I can start the day right
Cause I fucked up
Baby I been fucked round
And just good enough
Ain't enough in my town
I gotta get my thang right
So I can start the day right
[Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs]
We bendin' corners in Caprice's
Big cut dogs and Cadillacs, that dope check I'm cashin that
And I'm choking, smoking on that gasoline
Lost a hubcap on my hooptie
But my fiend just copped a teen
Had a dream that I was rich and famous all off this rapping shit
And the older niggas laughed at me, I'mma gon' make it happen bitch
In boot camp used to write my raps in my letters and send them to Roll
And say my nigga check this I'm gon' wreck shit when I get home
Dear lord we praisin' paper, really what I gotta take to make it
Pressin' up these CD's and MP3s, tryin' ta shake these haters
Plus I'm slanging just to maintain ducking investigation
Every year a nigga's only fear is the FED cases
Living in this industry enemies come with smiley faces
But I feel like fuck all these rappers they don't want no altercation
Baby face gangster, I earn my stripes out on the devil's playground
Peace to all my real niggas that stay down
[Hook x2]
more tracks from the album
From the album
- Baby Face Killa (2012)
Freddie Gibbs popular songs
- BFK
- Fuckin’ Up the Count
- Careless
- Still Livin
- 20 Karat Jesus
- How We Do (’93 Til Freestyle #3)
- Bout It, Bout It
- 4 Thangs
- Crushed Glass
- Pronto
- Forever and a Day
- Gang Signs
- Rob Me A Nigga
- Alexys
- Eastside Moonwalker
- The Hard
- Freddie Gordy
- Automatic
- Andrea
- Mexico
- Extradite
- Kush Cloud
- Death Row
- Neighborhood Hoez