Tek

[Verse 1: Grip] Uh, and so it goes Was rockin' stolen clothes back when Ludacris was throwin' bows Dickies and Girbauds at the corner store on Panola Road Livin' fast and dyin' young, nobody growin' old Unspoken but understood like Morse code You sellin' dope 'cause your mama crib got foreclose And maybe add a few pairs of kicks to your wardrobe You sick of livin' average, Lord knows This shit done switched you to a savage, Lord knows You down to split a nigga cabbage, Lord knows You at the club, tryna hop down on some hoes and some random nigga done just stepped on your toes If you was by yourself, you'd let it slide but since you with your bros, you stomped that nigga ass out and bloodied up his clothes But here's some shit nobody knows He sittin' in his car with a fully loaded TEC, he gon' wet up the parking lot as soon as that bitch close [Beat Switch] [Verse 2: Grip] Yeah, hoe, uh, uh Eastside is Spaghetti Junction, nigga pullin' up to the function Four deep and the speakers be thumpin', pop the trunk and niggas be dumpin' If you get caught slippin', you slumpin' and we came from nothing to something We was selling midget and bunkin' back when all of you niggas was crumpin' Can I get a witness, please? We came from the mud, we never had gifts put under the Christmas trees So then me and my niggas thought of a way that we could really get the cheese Now I'm on top of these words, parenthesis Don't go against the beast if you plan on keepin' your limbs and knees I pray for my enemies, when I pull up, I'm bringing the shit like an enema Down to swing like a pendulum but worst come to worst, then we shootin' like cinema I grew up with criminals, keep it minimum with the subliminals Opposition was never identical, niggas peakin', I'm not even at my pinnacle I never did it for fame, me and my niggas is one and the same Make you a little bit of change, everybody wanna say that you changed I never did it for chains, I did it so me and my niggas can gain Never stop spittin' these flames, nuh uh, never stop spittin' these flames [Chorus: Grip] Sweat, tears, blood, got up out of that mud Hold you there like they ain't know who I was Back when a nigga was stressin' that they never checked for me Nowadays, niggas be checking that I got a check for me My ex, she flexed on me but now she wanna be next to me Wishin' the best for me, these niggas want in on the recipe Angel protecting me but I keep a TEC on me Angel protecting me but I keep a TEC on me [Verse 3: Armani White] I got the pounds off half of the price these niggas was talkin' Get ya plug plugged for half of what them niggas was chargin' Dozen legs, dropping eggs, had pitch 'em a carton Incubate the wrinkled paper, get that chicken regardless Fuck y'all niggas keep looking at? Fuck I'm getting mistooken as? Twenty shots, run up in the parking lot, fuck y'all niggas keep shooting at? Shaking down niggas for twenty-two hundred but fuck y'all want me to do with that? They got caught at the library, brought him an offer, he turned to an author, they booked his ass But I pray that you find me, with a plate at the First 48 and my zombies An 8th in my laundry, my bitch in the front, and the station behind me I pray that you clock me, any nigga that's watching, I'm taking his timepiece And pray for my mommy, got insomnia but I'm hoping I make it inside, G [Chorus: Grip] Sweat, tears, blood, got up out of that mud Hold you there like they ain't know who I was Back when a nigga was stressin' that they never checked for me Nowadays, niggas be checking that I got a check for me My ex, she flexed on me but now she wanna be next to me Wishin' the best for me, these niggas want in on the recipe Angel protecting me but I keep a TEC on me Angel protecting me but I keep a TEC on me