CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Da Robbery, Pt. 2
Pulled up to the block to cop from the plug
Me and bro tryna get high, what do you got for the thugs?
But he ain't tryna show no homage tryna tax like we scrubs
But we ain't finna cop, I'm just asking because
And we ain't coming out our pockets so we taking it from him
Me and the plug got the same fam but that don't make me his cousin
T.O. told me it's game on so I pressed play on the button
Bro's tryna cook him with this .40 like he baked in the oven
Upped that .40 on that n***a need it all and some more
He ain't even try to run 'cause he already know
n***a make the wrong move and I'm letting it blow
n***a must of lost his mind tryna tax for the dro
Told DaBoii grab the sh*t let's get ready and go
Told that n***a don't say sh*t just put his face on the floor
Then we hop back in the whip put the pedal to floor
Another day up in the hood sh*t you know how it go
And you know how it go, ain't no need to explain
And I'm getting tired n***as always thinkin' it's games
And what's the point of bowing down if we all bleeding the same
And it get crazy in that ghetto gotta keep you a thang
Chilling on the block, rolled the dice hit a seven
Money on the floor let me know, n***a betting
Dumb b*t*h on my line I'll call back in a second
Brodie said scoot 'em, hit eleven
If your temperature high, your temperature what we checkin'
n***a started looking hard so I start clutching my weapon
Glock got up and he ain't 'bout it so he started confessing
n***as always in they feelings but they scared to address it
Pulled off on the block to end the day with some babby
I ain't got no kids but the b*t*h call me daddy
And I can f**k you good you just gotta send a addy
Just another day in the life of a G
Trying not to get shot by the punk police
On the gang
Me and bro tryna get high, what do you got for the thugs?
But he ain't tryna show no homage tryna tax like we scrubs
But we ain't finna cop, I'm just asking because
And we ain't coming out our pockets so we taking it from him
Me and the plug got the same fam but that don't make me his cousin
T.O. told me it's game on so I pressed play on the button
Bro's tryna cook him with this .40 like he baked in the oven
Upped that .40 on that n***a need it all and some more
He ain't even try to run 'cause he already know
n***a make the wrong move and I'm letting it blow
n***a must of lost his mind tryna tax for the dro
Told DaBoii grab the sh*t let's get ready and go
Told that n***a don't say sh*t just put his face on the floor
Then we hop back in the whip put the pedal to floor
Another day up in the hood sh*t you know how it go
And you know how it go, ain't no need to explain
And I'm getting tired n***as always thinkin' it's games
And what's the point of bowing down if we all bleeding the same
And it get crazy in that ghetto gotta keep you a thang
Chilling on the block, rolled the dice hit a seven
Money on the floor let me know, n***a betting
Dumb b*t*h on my line I'll call back in a second
Brodie said scoot 'em, hit eleven
If your temperature high, your temperature what we checkin'
n***a started looking hard so I start clutching my weapon
Glock got up and he ain't 'bout it so he started confessing
n***as always in they feelings but they scared to address it
Pulled off on the block to end the day with some babby
I ain't got no kids but the b*t*h call me daddy
And I can f**k you good you just gotta send a addy
Just another day in the life of a G
Trying not to get shot by the punk police
On the gang
