Roland Bishop

[Intro]

(Deep down my soul)

(Deep down my soul)

(Deep down my soul) Where we at with it, H?

(Crazy to be)

[Verse 1]

It's the Jack Lord, known for smackin' glass off the backboard

At the office with it, quick to chalk a nigga, turn a nigga slab to a blackboard

Everything mint like a Altoid, on the Hellblock, me and Fatboy

Ten-twenty pints of the Act' in, in the trap, me and Dan Aykroyd

Street life what I been livin', gangland, get them bricks missin'

Boss Hogg of the pig pen, run with hitmen so it hit different

Hundred million on the come-out (On the come-out)

Niggas know I'll pull this gun out (Pull this gun out)

Nigga, no guts, no glory, stretch two-twenty in a four-forty

In jail, they asked me if I know Corvin, nah, I ain't into tradin' war stories

Mouth closed tight when I got picked up, spent the whole night, hoodie zipped up

Back on the Dyke with my stick tucked, rollin' white like a lint brush

Mama pray for me 'cause I been touched, know they waitin' on me to slip up

Nigga can't afford another hiccup, moral of the story: keep your lips shut

Now it's foreign exchange with the gang, bouncin' out with my wrist bust

Nigga still droppin' dirty except this time, it's not a piss cup

Let's get it

[Chorus]

I sold drugs to feed my peoples, not party and dangle

Then I took some of the proceeds and I started a label

Soul of a thug, blood of a creature, the heart of a gangster

Pole in my clutch, I never needed no guardian angel

(Deep down my soul) In the heart of the manger

(Deep down my soul) Double-parkin' that Maybach

(Deep down my soul) Still ain't talkin' to strangers

New AR with the laser (Crazy to be), bitch, quit callin' me crazy

[Interlude]

You goin' crazy, B

When you said that last time

I was kinda trippin', right?

But you know what else?

I don't give a fuck

[Verse 2]

Streets ran a facts check, OG gave me all access

Less than half brick, shit, we'll mix a nigga down, add him to the tracklist

I'm a wordsmith, favorite words is, "Thank you for your proof of purchase"

Yeah, that pussy good for a minute but the money only thing a nigga worship

Me and my niggas, we the real deal, we want all the pills still

Benz trunk full of green pints, on the Eastside, me and Trill Bill

I'm a work horse, no horseplay, playin' with the work is my forté

White horse walkin' on water, they say Jesus rose on the fourth day

Now it's all praise due, all white ice in my Jesús

Black Balenciaga space boots stompin' foreign pedals when we race coupes

Cheated death with a ace deuce, most niggas in the ghetto can't shoot

Eight in my Canadian Dry, turn the cream soda to a grape juice

Fuck tryna send a beat pack, give me thirty-two for the whole thing

Thirty blues for the jean jacket, Virgil Louis with the rope strings

Courtesy of the neighborhood clucks, line layin' bricks on 'em

They call me crazy so much, my mind playin' tricks on me

[Chorus]

I sold drugs to feed my peoples, not party and dangle

Then I took some of the proceeds and I started a label

Soul of a thug, blood of a creature, the heart of a gangster

Pole in my clutch, I never needed no guardian angel

(Deep down my soul) In the heart of the manger

(Deep down my soul) Double-parkin' that Maybach

(Deep down my soul) Still ain't talkin' to strangers

New AR with the laser (Crazy to be), bitch, quit callin' me crazy

[Outro]

(Deep down my soul) Bitch, quit callin' me crazy

(Deep down my soul) Bitch, quit callin' me crazy

(Deep down my soul) Bitch, quit callin' me crazy

(Crazy to be) Bitch, quit callin' me crazy