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 That 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 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 (Money in your palm don't make you real) (Pistol in your hand don't make you real) (Money in your palm don't make you real)