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