I'm a let you hear that other one after I do this
I'm a let you hear the one you know the 6's and all old shit all that we don't fuck around shit
I like this shit man
Coke and rock and choppin' off 'em, private goin' on shopping sprees
Glock in my back pocket, already cocked okay I'm clockin' cheese
Strap jump off the hinges in the trenches, all the alleyways
Had to say, each and every day we grabbin' paper
Live the hustle, probably die, gangster and etcetera
Sometime I can't take no break, they keep callin' my cellular
This the game and we know this life we gon' be alright
Ain't no sleep tonight, bitch we outchea chasin' paper
At the Pual Inn with the tech 9, no bandana, no gloves on
Long kiss goodnight, my nigga, but we ain't makin' no love song
This bullshit you sold me got Inisotol no soda on it
I straight dropped and lost 20 grams like what the fuck is you smokin' homie
Red Camaro, white rally stripes, gon' probably be on TV
Move wrong while the tool on, I put your ass on Street Beat
Repeat, you see me, I'm a repeat offender
Park the whip, lay under houses, we all move round with the stethoscope
Arrested for [?] these pussy niggas 'bout stretchin' coke
Bend the barrel with a machine gun, like, "Say hello to my little friend"
Chick I met at Texaco, down here for school, not visitin'
Shit's about to get interestin', bitch say she from Michigan
Coke and rock and choppin' off 'em, private goin' on shopping sprees
Glock in my back pocket, already cocked okay I'm clockin' cheese
Strap jump off the hinges in the trenches, all the alleyways
Had to say, each and every day we grabbin' paper
Live the hustle, probably die, gangster and etcetera
Sometime I can't take no break, they keep callin' my cellular
This the game and we know this life we gon' be alright
Ain't no sleep tonight, bitch we outchea chasin' paper
Shipment just come in, drop work in Ponchatoula and Springfield
Extended clip on the nine milli, a lot of hollow tips no refill
Imagine how the fuck we feel, in the winter time no heat here
I sleep here, all my smokers be bummin' bars for free beer
And we fear, you'll meet a nigga like me in your life
Grind time it's goin' brrmmm
I listen to the radio, we on fly, shawty say she all mine
Color all in the wrong lines, to the dope game I got strong ties
I've sold cocaine, this all the time
Favorite all summer, title white lines
Watch rich people snort white lines, sip white wine at dinner parties
Been retarded, I leave a party
People start to leave like we the party
Thuggin' on, don't mention it
Pockets full of Benjamins
Coke and rock and choppin' off 'em, private goin' on shopping sprees
Glock in my back pocket, already cocked okay I'm clockin' cheese
Strap jump off the hinges in the trenches, all the alleyways
Had to say, each and every day we grabbin' paper
Live the hustle, probably die, gangster and etcetera
Sometime I can't take no break, they keep callin' my cellular
This the game and we know this life we gon' be alright
Ain't no sleep tonight, bitch we outchea chasin' paper
Kevin Gates, born Kevin Gilyard, is an American rapper, singer, and entrepreneur born in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, in 1986. After a youth marked by economic hardship and legal troubles, Gates began his musical career in the early 2000s, releasing independent mixtapes that garnered public attention. In 2013, he signed with the Bread Winners' Association collective and achieved growing success with albums like *The Luca Brasi Story* (2016) and *I'm Him* (2019). His music is characterized by introspective lyrics, often autobiographical, that explore themes of violence, drugs, love, and spirituality. Among his most notable tracks are "2 Phones", "Knocking on Your Door" and "Really Really". Gates is also known for his complex and controversial personality, which has led him to be both celebrated and criticized throughout his career.
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