​ode to brostep

Game don't wait (heavy, wait)
Eyes heavy but it's time to grind motherfucker
Can't be late (hold up, wait)
Fuck a nine-to-five, push work state-to-state (shit)
No work, no food, still eatin' off paper plates
Banana clip is a paperweight, paper mate

Tell 'em how you're married to the game
She fuckin' everybody but you still put a ring on it, on it
Keep it one hunnit, homies, home is where the homies
Home is where the homies got your back
Get your backpack, gеt back to the block
Bring it back to the block, shit
Slangin' crack beats cracks into Sacroiliac
But thе Glock cocked back, lay another body flat

(To the pumped up funk)

Buckingham Palace has announced the death of His Royal Highness, the Duke of Edinburgh

(Jump! Jump!)
(Jump!)
(Jump! Jump!)
(Jump!)

Hustlin' is a habit, so they say
This is for the G's who wasn't trippin' and never knew any other way
Other ways of gettin' money, not many do not require
A degree of separation from the streets you gettin' paid in
In which the degree of difficulty is extraordinarily high
And she high while doin' it, so see why
Somebody who isn't from it might not understand
How you body a body, in other words (how I could just kill a man)

And still a gram is a gram and nobody is Instagramin'
They killin' on Cypress Hill and they still is squeezin' the hammers
Police is beyond the scanners, these some obsequious bandits
And brandishin' flags of function
You fuck a figure, it's fashion then flash on a motherfucker
You fuckin' seeing the passion, forgetting the hunger
This the jungle, time to get active and crack it
So acrobatic, it'll flip in a sec, but set's up and no second guessing
Here in the street, people sweating for the money