Ronnie Drake

[Intro: SZA & Isaiah Rashad] I mean I mean, I been thinking Nah Alright, Rob, this the one, last one, check me out You sure? [Verse 1: Isaiah Rashad] So don't call me a nigga, unless you call me "my nigga" I'm a king, O.E. be slipping, falling from my chalice, ugh Don't mind the bumper that was missing from my carriage, ugh It's poorly tinted, but my women not embarrassed I came to bury you average, uh, you feel slighted, ayy It's like she know that I got it, it feel like it Ayy, I real-life it, ayy, I spill vices Ayy, you will like it, I promise it's trill vomit, I'm honest Nigga, ain't no getting money on that conscious shit I'ma just load my gat on some survival shit And when I hear they got a drought on it I take a month out of rap, and I hustle 'til I'm out of it I got that coke flow, ugh, that heat rock I got that old school, huddle to the beat box Baby, I'm just digging in your gushy for the sweet spot I'ma beat that, 'til that motherfucking beat drop, bitch! [Chorus: SZA] I got love for my niggas, my killers My dealers, my trickers, my bros I got love for my sisters, my women My bitches, my strippers, my hoes I got love for my niggas, my killers My dealers, my trickers, my bros I got love for my sisters, my women My bitches, my strippers, my hoes I got love for my niggas [Verse 2: Isaiah Rashad] Ayy, hope they don't kill you 'cause you Black today They only feel you when you pass away The eulogy be so moving, we live the scenes of those movies Conflict in school or dope moving, it's so youthful But if you die today I hope you findin' some relief, oh, what a great escape We still dodging from polices when we make a plate They lying, searching in my bucket with the straightest face It could be '88 Sometimes, I wonder why we killers, why they killing us I think we only wear a grill because they grilling us Or how they feeling us, gotta look real and tough Gotta keep your hands in the cart, know you stealing stuff Came a long way from a boat and an auction Now, we got names and a vote, then a coffin Ain't shit change but the coast we adopted Little Black children, you can call me "that nigga," nigga [Chorus: SZA] I got love for my niggas, my killers My dealers, my trickers, my bros I got love for my sisters, my women My bitches, my strippers, my hoes I got love for my niggas, my killers My dealers, my trickers, my bros I got love for my sisters, my women My bitches, my strippers, my hoes I got love for my nigga