derrick matthews – ain’t rich freestyle lyrics
[intro: derrick matthews]
yeah
uh
let’s go
yo
[verse 1: derrick matthews]
not broke but i ain’t rich
don’t give my 2 cents to a dumb b+tch
i ain’t into saving hoes if i was then you would know
i would’ve put a ring around for my x to go
you can’t wife a ho
the game’s to be sold not to be told
you better leave her on the po’ for sho’
and let some 40 old rope a dope and feed her coke
before your whole paycheck will end up her nose
dag nab it, it’s a habit to go in
probably why i end up losing all my friends
and block close to kin i guess i’m at it again
i’m like an addict off the wagon with a baggie to binge
smoke tracks like a rack of pig back fat
makе it hard to breathe like an asthmatic
keep thе stacks with a mac in the backpack
get a charge like la that’s all traffic
these hoes want a ticket to the show
my day ones get a head start
if they ain’t f+cking with you whenever you’re broke
leave them alone till they all salt
cause a hater’s like a fan
this the making of the band
bout to send you mother f+ckers to get my cheesecake
only hit you once here comes the rebate
if you really want the beef you know we got steak
tenderloins and back straps
with the mossy oak and game bags
field dress no hazmat
no fawn b+tch that’s a full rack
mount it up on a jacked+up truck
roll down the street looking like a redneck
but i’m black as h+ll with face tattoos
n+gga better get it right they call me a dread neck
when the feds check we flip them off
f+ck the cops till i’m 6 feet
bed check it might p+ss you off
cause your girl with me and we not sleep
might be nice but i’m not weak
word to the biscuit and two+piece
been true grit no tv
i’m like john wayne in 3d
raised by the k!llas and d boys
on the north side, they sold weight
worked with the farmers and cowboys
on the west side, they rolled hay
from the middle of the map, a sl+t spelled backwards pinpoint in ok
tulsa boy, them n+ggas from the backwoods cutthroat they don’t play
oj, k!llas walking out the courtroom the neighborhood don’t talk
had to pick up bullet sh+lls in the afternoon
before we could play a game of football
2 hand touch, mama raised no punk
better tackle that n+gga to the pavement
when them n+ggas air it out better duck hit the ground
or your name will end up on that statement
that’s lame sh+t, but it’s true as f+ck
even when you don’t know who to trust
i stay away from n+ggas who love to judge
but if you don’t speak the slang can’t be cool with us
some would say that’s ironic
backwoods with some chronic
mix that sailor jerry in an ocean water route 44 from sonic
feeling like a movie but this ain’t the goonies
in the boonies trailer park packed like sardines
turn on the wrong street better go back jack
these ain’t black cats when the ar sings
trap houses were single wide
kids across the tracks thought it was crack sh+t
swat would come in and raid that b+tch
whole block be smelling like cat p+ss
mom’s boyfriend was bat sh+t
when a crackhead came in and robbed the fridge
they took my playstation up out the crib
and i was still the one that got my ass kicked
rockbottom ain’t nothing whenever you from the gutter
cause i came up where they kick you in the dirt
mama said hit first
but if you lose that fight when we get home
know you’re gonna get it worse
b+tch
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