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styles p - my own lyrics

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[intro: styles]
yeah, it is what it is
tell ’em ain’t no me
feel me?
vinny idol, n-gga

[verse 1: styles p]
streets know the aura, tommy guns, fedoras
watch for the creeps, the peeps on the corner
mommy read genesis, i cred the torah
supposed to be righteous but i love the horror
was thrilled by crime
i can’t believe i let a motherf-ckin’ dollar bill k!ll my mind
dull my senses, steal my shine
it took a strong will from me to heal my mind
still, i’m blind ’cause still i grind
this ain’t astrology but feel my sign
ghost walk his path align, feel his rap align
’cause i kick sh-t that make the pastor cry
weed pacify or p-ss the time
got the soul of a slave with a mastermind
get real ill, make a statue cry
’cause gettin’ real deep, that’s a knack of mine
but f-ck accolades, blow a splif and get kicks off a [?] page
homie, put the mac away
you either live or you die slow
might you burn o’s and hide dough from 5-0
i’m john doe in the tahoe
glow in the dark how a spark’ll leave your mind blown
my time’s up in your time zone, still on the flow but, my n-gga, i’m a ride on
ghost

[chorus: whipsers]
i be on my own sh-t, all about that dough sh-t
greedy mother f-cker on that low sh-t
i be on my own sh-t, all about that dough sh-t
grease a eighty-eight, that’s that blow sh-t
i be on my own sh-t

[verse 2: styles p]
this is all from the school of hard knocks
from wyo to far rock, i’m the n-gga they play on the hard blocks
what’s the meaning of time when you lookin’ at god clock?
speakin’ on the patterns in the sky
n-ggas make rules up and break ’em, but i’m adamant with mine
catalyst for crime, talk sh-t i’m shatterin’ your spine
’cause i ain’t get a ladder for the climb
nah, no ropes, no hikin’ sh-t
had to play valhalla on some vikin’ sh-t
but never snitch gone on the deal
live n-ggas keep it real, go out on they shield
no longer doin’ crime but i could p-ss a line
take a couple points, hit a joint, that is by design
tradition kept, surprised a lotta n-ggas ain’t missin’ yet
just ’cause they ain’t listen yet
i know they deaf but they ain’t get the vision yet
who am i to judge?
only robe i wear is from the ‘telly on the balcony
blowin’ on the bud
and i ain’t got a ego, i could show a n-gga love
i got a desert eagle that could show a n-gga mud
d-ck in the dirt, floor wet ’cause of the blood
to tell the truth, n-gga, i rather give you a hug
and you just mad ’cause of the plug
i know what it is, not what it was

[chorus: whipsers]
i be on my own sh-t, all about that dough sh-t
greedy mother f-cker on that low sh-t
i be on my own sh-t, all about that dough sh-t
grease a eighty-eight, that’s that blow sh-t
i be on my own sh-t



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