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ar-ab - not me lyrics

[chorus: ar-ab]
yeah, he got money and he got guns
and he sell drugs but he not me
yeah, he shot n-gg-s and he been to jail
yeah, he a thug, but he not me
no he not me, no, he not me
he can say all that but he not me
no he not me, no, he not me
he can tell all that but they not me

[verse 1: ar-ab]
no, you’re not me and i’m not you
you’re an emcee, i’m the top goon
hear it in your raps how you shot a gat
and you got a brick, n-gg- where it’s at?
i don’t see it dawg, all i see is frauds
lot of n-gg-s rap, all of em soft
they ain’t shoot n-gg-s, they ain’t see the trap
they ain’t make 100 grand all off crack
you was cased up, all of em stupid
i was cased up, all of em shootings
i was in pick, i was at the “f”
you was in your cell, i was catching wreck
used to play the block till’ no c-ke left
and i robbed n-gg-s with a broke tech
man, i been there, man, i was you
on another level, i’m above you

[verse 2: ar-ab]
no, you can’t be, no you’re not me
i ain’t wanna do the right thing spike lee
i was tryna move them white things nightly
shooting n-gg-s in the head, it excite me
so, i did that, got locked up, beat the case
came home, tore the block up
man, i left school in the 9th grade
you was in cl-ss getting straight “a’s”
i was selling crack getting straight paid
i was at war with an ak. i done shot n-gg-s; point blank range
they gave snub life for the same thing
you’re a rapper, i’m a drug lord
i done ducked bullets in a drug war
i’m on some new sh-t, i let that “oo” spit
handheld digi scale weighing 2 bricks
i see dead people, yeah, ben frank
n-gg-s like me, yeah, they’re instinct

[verse 3: nh]
n-gg-s not me, i know for a fact
you ain’t never sold a drug, you ain’t never bust a gat
i been there, i done that, i done stuffed a 100 sh-lls in 1 mac
i slung crack and it got me through the hard times
i’m a trapper, man, this rapping is only part time
they not like me, i’m getting crazy cake
ask “k!ll”, man, the crib like a navy base
you moving baby weight, we getting bricks laid
real rap, i been hustling since the 6th grade
i had to get paid, i had to get dough
so i started jamming n-gg-s, me and rob low
in the projects, fist fights with “5.0”
pop a n-gg- in his and watch him die slow
you might got c-ke, you might got trees
you might got guns, but you not me

- ar ab lyrics

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