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quintana - letter 2 my stepper lyrics

(intro + chris king)

…on the other side…

see you in my dreams…

on the other side…

(verse 1 + quintana)

it was me and you, cracked out, gettin’ rich inside that crack house
in too deep, can’t back out
ain’t no goin’ back now
got a problem, gettin’ blacked out
i’m a junkie, never tap out
real sh+t, what i rap ’bout
all my opps, they ass down
make a five, like, twenty, a twenty, like, hunnids’
give me a fifty, i’ll make us rich
no longer cryin’ bout that b+tch
cause’ i got motion
backwoods and backshots, i’m back on my hoe sh+t
tell that sl+t to take a walk, just like amber rose did
tryna’ get rich, buy a crib by the ocean
i’d put it on my soul, but i alrеady sold it
and if i’m a pig, then money what i roll in
dead pеople’s sons is what i’m smokin’
had to do a lotta’ dirty sh+t, just to get where i’m at
f+ck the back door, the key was right under the mat
you was talkin’ h+lla sh+t, come and get your sh+t back
ceilings in the crib, we still slid, and we hit that
cryin’ to our b+tch, there ain’t no f+ckin’ get+back
proud as f+ck, that i did that
tell me who gon’ win, this gun, or his six+pack
(verse 2 + chris king)
oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
you gon’ make it out the hood playin’ ball, or you flip packs
would you hit the yard, for your revenge, and get your get+back
all my n+ggas gonna’ ball with me, or it’s a mismatch
ain’t no love in this sh+t my n+gga, and don’t forget that
ridin’ with vipers and tint, you know you can’t see in that
ridin’ with snipers, i’m tryna figure where your friends at
attach a scope and i pull the trigger, then my wrist snap
lettin’ the bullet fly for the headshot for h+llo
i’m icy, like how to check you? in plexiglass
i seen him call for his mama, soon as the weapon blast
see n+ggas pray to god, for they n+gga not to die, then blame god, when he let him pass
feel like minutes, when seconds pass
tryna’ mature and forgive sh+t that’s unforgiveable
know the outcome different what you did to me, if i did to you
i take no exceptions, i’m less than perfect, i keep it true
need three meals a day, but beats, lean and weed seem to be my food
don’t feel like myself, i just stick it out, then i see it through
i win it all, but my past mistakes is what i need to lose
i dribble hard, and i attack the boards, give it to king to shoot
sincerely yours, sign, seal, deliver, signed by christopher junior
close the door, my shoulder so cold, i done got pneumonia
four+by+four, the g+wag, swing it, like a knuckle sandwich
fourty+four, we don’t tuck in chains, we don’t tuck a hammer
slow your roll, keep a street+sweeper, check your country grammar

dedicated to the life and story of christopher stacy cheeks jr. aka chris king
1991+2024
#llcksnm4l

- quintana lyrics

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