Middle Child

You good, T-Minus?

Niggas been counting me out

I'm counting my bullets

I'm loading my clips

I'm writing down names

I'm making a list

I'm checking it twice and I'm getting 'em hit

The real ones been dying

The fake ones is lit

The game is off balance

I'm back on my shit

The Bentley is dirty

My sneakers is dirty

But that's how I like it

You all on my dick

I'm all in my bag

This hard as it get

I do not snort powder

I might take a sip

I might hit the blunt

But I'm liable to trip

I ain't popping no pill

But you do as you wish

I roll with some fiends

I love 'em to death

I got a few mil'

But not all of them rich

What good is the bread if my niggas is broke?

What good is first class if my niggas can't sit?

That's my next mission

That's why I can't quit

Just like LeBron

Get my niggas more chips

Just put the Rollie right back on my wrist

This watch came from Drizzy

He gave me a gift

Back when the rap game was praying I'd diss

They act like two legends cannot coexist

But I'd never beef with a nigga for nothing

If I smoke a rapper

It's gon' be legit

It won't be for clout

It won't be for fame

It won't be 'cause my shit ain't selling the same

It won't be to sell you my latest lil' sneakers

It won't be 'cause some nigga slid in my lane

Everything grows

It's destined to change

I love you lil' niggas

I'm glad that you came

I hope that you scrape every dollar you can

I hope you know money won't erase the pain

To the OG's

I'm thanking you now

Was watching you when you was paving the ground

I copied your cadence

I mirrored your style

I studied the greats

I'm the greatest right now

Fuck if you feel me

You ain't got a choice

Now I ain't do no promo

Still made all that noise

This shit gon' be different

I set my intentions

I promise to slap all that hate out your voice

Niggas been counting me out

I'm counting my bullets

I'm loading my clips

I'm writing down names

I'm making a list

I'm checking it twice and I'm getting 'em hit

The real ones been dying

The fake ones is lit

The game is off balance

I'm back on my shit

The Bentley is dirty

My sneakers is dirty

But that's how I like it

You all on my dick

I just poured something in my cup

I've been wanting something I can feel

Promise I am never lettin' up

Money in your palm don't make you real

Foot is on they neck

I got 'em stuck

I'ma give 'em something they can feel

If it ain't 'bout the squad

Don't give a fuck

Pistol in your hand don't make you real

I'm dead in the middle of two generations

I'm little bro and big bro all at once

Just left the lab with young 21 Savage

I'm 'bout to go and meet Jigga for lunch

Had a long talk with the young nigga Kodak

Reminded me of young niggas from 'Ville

Straight out the projects

No faking, just honest

I wish that he had more guidance, for real

Too many niggas in cycle of jail

Spending they birthdays inside of a cell

We coming from a long bloodline of trauma

We raised by our mamas

Lord we gotta heal

We hurting our sisters

The babies as well

We killing our brothers

They poisoned the well

Distorted self image

We set up to fail

I'ma make sure that the real gon' prevail, nigga

I just poured something in my cup

I've been wanting something I can feel

Promise I am never lettin' up

Money in your palm don't make you real

Foot is on they neck

I got 'em stuck

I'ma give 'em something they can feel

If it ain't 'bout the squad

Don't give a fuck

Pistol in your hand don't make you real