Hell or High Water

[Verse: Ransom] Look how We made it nigga Amazing liquor mixed with Asian dinners Famous spitters , 'member the losers always gon' blame the winners , heinous sinners Working for nothing made you bitter look the boss will never Pay you enough to be his neighbor nigga Same agenda , that brother soft , what's his name and gender Lame intender , insane offender injure your main contender Scared for nothing , some niggas never really shared nothing Here cousin , bags on the scale just hit the tare button Tears coming hurt niggas head on the tears but in Tear something , buck fifty a nigga , that's ear to ear cutting Air something , shoot up the venue , got all your peers ducking Fear nothing , bitch ass niggas got all these queers blushing I smell your fear throughout the hemisphere I pillage your village , save all the women and children Make sure no men is spared , that stench is where the bullet sent You there, we all live in this hell , so don't you get this shit twisted Cause we got central air , everybody is depressed in need some of mental care But never been in prison when someone you love sent you there Yeah , god bless the brave stranger, displayed anger Buried you six feet and you still in grave danger [Verse: Flee Lord] My hood a max prison, with crack pitchin' and the gat spittin' Whole family livin' off of black women It's a fact you spat fishin' I sit back relax twistin' If it ain't a V12 my niggas laugh at that engine (Uh) Used to microwave an eighth but now I like to play it safe My lordie eat with a razor like he writin' on your face Prayin' sheddin' tears, my mommas heaven near Old flicks of the clique and them niggas never there Flee and Ran' tappin' in see fam have to win We the grand champions in the van packed with Jim's All this guest-starrin', pull up in the best foreign With a childhood friend that's dodgin' all the fed warrants Lord Mobb Flee I'm enjoying the works I blow the sour in the sky for all my lords in the dirt Yo, I blow the sour in the air for all my lords in the dirt [Verse: Rome Streetz] I put my plight in the pen jot it on the page then I made paper Used to pump poison in the projects sellin' death to nature Now all my projects poison Streetz done got his name up Still it's fuck the police, Trump and the legislature Still live by the code I listen and no talk unless it's major Not signed to majors this all independent Still in cahoots with wild yutes that's out tryna rob your ring and pendant Want it all now cause in the streets it ain't no pension More concerned with the cashapp than a fuckin' twitter mention Got a thing for semi-automatic gats with clip extensions This is razor blade rap spittin' with a vengeance My life behind these bars care less how you judge the sentence Blowin' weed to the sky that's a thugs repentance Blood on the hundreds and dubs that I stuff in my denims [Verse: Eto] Autistic - dumb smart, god gifted from jump start Y'all missed it, ask O-Dog with the young heart Still a menace who in defense to feel offended If I ever had to offer my hand, you will attend it If so, the foot soldier help the regiment grow With no handouts, earned his lot the veterans owe A New York minute you only get a second to blow We on different time, direct em' to the heavens below His fear of losing is greater than the excitement of winning Vice is suspension, spent his whole life in this prison No room to brag, whos his dad? I can assist him Or you could spank him, pick poise and wisest religion Uh yeah, I won't talk to you how your bitches did But I only respect a man who made initiatives It won't get out of hand if it did Cause my shooters home dancin' they know we into this [Verse: Rigz] Look, ayo, business don fees Send em' to kill em', who said the Taurus cheap? While short-minded niggas make music to give me long sleep I wrote this on my off-week, yo I sell work and stand sharp cause it's silence I'm spittin' shit to my heartbeat Clause language, through these corners where shit be dangerous The twenty-five is sold and bodies made niggas famous The industry too lame, fuck who you group with, you thirst to group pic', male groupies I should give y'all a group name (Ha) The smack here how I directed I'm not to cut it They cravin' next three-in-one shit, the shooters love it Fuck it, I got purposeful goals, so from the fiends I must stash what I make and do it under your nose Hit your moustache with it blood drenching his clothes You got fears of being you I ain't living with those Too many frauds flash cash but they never make it last Cause they good with they closet having more in it then they stash Stupid. (It's real stupid man, 'fuck outta here)