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9th street - phonecalls lyrics

[chorus: rzo munna]
my worker keeps hitting me with phone calls, saying he’s got problems with the locals
my shooter, he ain’t really on his socials, he don’t like to talk, he’s anti-social
they just nicked my little n-gga with a g-pack, he just got outta jail and he don’t need that
i gave my cat some tt for some feedback, i made my baby leak and she know real n-ggas don’t eat that

[verse 1: rzo munna]
i told my b-tch she only know the half of it
if i ever robbed a brick, i’d give my n-gga half of it
i play my role but that don’t mean she can be lazy, my baby turned into my lady because she worked hard for it
first time i jumped on that train, never knew i was going so far away
first time sleeping on that nitty’s couch, the first time i seen a spot on my face
first time i broke a piece of that rock to give dave a shot, i seen him fly away
first time they caught your boy in the spot, i banked all the rocks, i stepped out, nfa

i took trips, i got hungry
took trips out the country, i went country
never been a holiday ting
is she with me for my money?
baby girl, i don’t think you can love me
first year i never bought her no things

[verse 2: soze]
i trap hard, i don’t trip
stuck up in the trap with these roaches, tryna make this phone rip
put in a stove, now we doubling up
pyrex bubbling up, in the trap i trust

[verse 3: rzo munna]
you little n-ggas ain’t f-ckin with us
catch a case and pray that i buss
fingers up to the judge
same finger i use for my b-tch
on my life, i’m getting used to this sh-t, it ain’t nuttin to us
they think they know what’s better for me
i got stress, someone pour me some lean
it all started off as a dream
now i’m really tryna rob me some keys
i was too busy tryna clap me some fiends
i shoulda been practising on my deen
they said i get caught up in the streets
if it weren’t for the grinding then how would i eat?

[verse 4: soze]
pulling up on blocks and watching n-ggas freeze up
she don’t want a sweet boy, she want someone g’d up
if i ever rob a brick, i tell my n-gga eat up
i was flat on my face, now your boy t’d up

[verse 5: rzo munna]
worker missed a call, showed him that one call
i found him off the lean
i cut my b-tch off and told her i need some time, she said needs some of me
she addicted like codeine, pour halfs of it in the sprite to help me sleep
phone ringing, it’s the fiends, rolly called for 8, i hope he don’t od

- 9th street lyrics

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