Granny Crib

Turn up

Came a long way to a mansion crib
I had roaches out my granny crib
Jumped into the streets on accident
Police snatched me up, they better not ask me shit
I don't want no Quali, I want some Actavis
I bet that nigga won't lack again
Remember, I had them two for ten's
Put me on child support, you better not ask for shit
On my dead body
I remember wakin' up and seein' a dead body
And I can't go back on my word, that's on my dead body
Don't come into my funeral cryin' over my dead body
And I ain't gon' pick you out, I'm talking 'bout everybody
I remember selling weed inside some Ed Hardy's
My homie, he the police, he might be Fed, probably
That's on my dead body

You ain't never been in a shootout with yo', homie he ain't shoot back (he ain't shoot back)
Niggas don't try when I'm by myself 'cause I'm too strapped ('cause I'm too strapped)
Always tryin' to fix some shit where they loose at (where they loose at)
Couldn't get none to eat where I'm at, I sold loose squares (I sold loose squares)
Tryin' tell my judge my story, like, "Who cares?" (like, "Who cares?")
Can't explain the love I got out for Dahmir (for my son)
Don't come outside when it's war I think you scared (I think you scared)
Wasn't in my life, I tell my kids you dead (wasn't dead)
Know some niggas that snake they homies for some meds (for some meds)
Know some niggas don't take care they homies in the Feds (oh my God)
Know some niggas that took some gunshots to the head (that's on God)
No reaction and scream, "Gang gang," when I'm dead (let's get it)
Please be greater, don't please these haters
When that Bentley pouting, like please these gators
I don't cry at wakings, I'ma grieve later
You gon' believe me now, you gon' believe me later
You ain't bleeding now, you gon' bleed later
We don't buy fives, sevens, nigga we take 'em
Percocet eater, I told Rex, "Take 'em"
And that money change ya, I told Rex, "Thank you"

Came a long way to a mansion crib
I had roaches out my granny crib
Jumped into the streets on accident
Police snatched me up, they better not ask me shit
I don't want no Quali, I want some Actavis
I bet that nigga won't lack again
Remember, I had them two for ten's
Put me on child support, you better not ask for shit
On my dead body
I remember wakin' up and seein' a dead body
And I can't go back on my word, that's on my dead body
Don't come into my funeral cryin' over my dead body
And I ain't gon' pick you out, I'm talking 'bout everybody
I remember selling weed inside some Ed Hardy's
My homie, he the police, he might be Fed, probably
That's on my dead body, uh

I'm attached to my babies, they be drivin' me crazy
My three sons crazy, make my daughters ladies
Turn these thou's to millions, goin' broke, prevent it
I be on my enemies, a hunnid and one percentage
Don't fuck wit no sucker niggas, my life I adjusted wit it
I snake you just to get it, no wonder I keep my distance
Wonder why I keep my pistol, had fame since we was little
Kept guns from being bullied, cap guns to keep 'em fully
My teacher tried to push me, I need them birds like Whoopie
My bitch, I love her pussy, for thirty thousand book me
They steady tryna book me, they smoke a pound of cookie
A designer junkie, I done survived the jungle
I'ma survive the struggle, forever got ride wit muscle, lovey
These ain't right act like they love me
Homicide, homicide, if a nigga touch me
Facts, oh
Shame on you mean, that's a shame on me
You got fame on you, that mean that's fame for me
If you get one hundred, yeah, that's the same for me
I'll forgive you for what you did, just explain to me

Came a long way to a mansion crib
I had roaches out my granny crib
Jumped into the streets on accident
Police snatched me up, they better not ask me shit
I don't want no Quali, I want some Actavis
I bet that nigga won't lack again
Remember, I had them two for ten's
Put me on child support, you better not ask for shit
On my dead body
I remember wakin' up and seein' a dead body
And I can't go back on my word, that's on my dead body
Don't come into my funeral cryin' over my dead body
And I ain't gon' pick you out, I'm talking 'bout everybody
I remember selling weed inside some Ed Hardy's
My homie, he the police, he might be Fed, probably
That's on my dead body, uh