CORRECT LYRICS

Lyrics : I Got 5

(It's a Wayne beat)
Yeah, okay
Alright
I got, I got, yeah

F**k a hundred bands, I got five on it
Jay, let's go half on a crib, I got five on it (On it)
We can't adapt to f**k sh*t, it put a bind on us
I used to buy a ball of dope and then survive on it
Street was busy with a bunch of business, you could hide on it (C'mon)
You know the streets was not nowhere to play 'cause n***as died on it (Baow)
I'll think about some sh*t and then ride on it (Yeah)
N***as hating on the low, ain't no disguise for 'em (Yeah, f**k 'em)
God got me doing this, bro, I ain't trying to show it (Yeah)
I be f**king the money off like I'm trying to blow it
Thirty on my, huh, put a five on it (Yeah)
Twenty on my rent, put a five on it
Twenty for my car, put a five on it
To th? hood, I'm a legend, I'm dying a Kobe

Beech?r n***a, on my headstone, put a five on it
Young dog kill for nothing, on your head, I put a five on it
Bucktown n***a throwing B's, I put a hive on it
Rondo on his brand-new jersey, put a 9 on it
You don't want me walking in your yard? Put a sign on it
You can't walk in my gra**, it's a fine for it
You can't hit my blunt out of line, it's a time for it
Fifty thousand dollars ain't sh*t, n***a signed for it
Everything you see me doin' now, I had to grind for it
These shoes that I'm rocking right now cost five Jordans
I'll put the heat to your body like an iron board
You ain't got no money, you a lyin' boy
Ran up my first 50K, I gotta grind more
F**k, I think it's snakes in my gra**, I need a lawnmower
I got friends I just yet mesterday and we bond more
F**k, I just ran out of Wock', I need to find more
Jay, you tryna drink a Wock' pint? I got five of 'em
I got a white b*t*h who always stuff the pills and she drive for me
N***a pulled his gun out and I fired on him
Picked the gun up, c*cked it back and dropped five on 'em
Yeah, I know you love your brother, would you die for him?
My n***a stood up in front of jury and lied for me
Oh, you like my Rio piece? I spent a dime on it
Yeah, and I ain't sell a dime rock, I had to rhyme for it
Louie say he still, he still grindin' for it
N***a shot at me in ninth grade, he still dyin' for it
I know I got five pints of Wock', I need five more
Whack him down to a eight, go? huh
Whack him down to a eight, go out of town, get fifty-five for him
Hmm, yeah, that's fifty-five thousand
N***a, I ain't buyin' no more jewelry, I'd rather buy houses
I got a fiend who hit dope and try to climb mountains