You ain't safe, dick, where you at?
Ay, I'm 'bout to come get in yo' face (Ay, find me two niggas)
(Find me the one that can say he stuck his dick in me)
(And find me the one that can say I told on him)
God forgive me, I'm a sinner
License plate reader, pray this contraption block the signal
Built a case on me, nigga, but bullets did not get delivered
Face (Brrt) my signature, envelope returned to sender
Thirty-two out the magazine, MAC-11, I quit feelin'
Dealers back, whole team, they wish death on me, I could feel it
Whole unit, held nuts on me, talkin' 'bout me to they bitches
Whole unit went duck on me, when it's up, I'm in the trenches
Me and Straw, great Monte Carlo, windows tinted, mind your business
When it's unimportant to you, you don't even give it mention
Keep my name in his penis eater, he must be in his feelings
Luca Brasi big general, reachin' blocks through my lieutenants
Set the tone, in the interview, they tune in and say it's healing
Well, it cheese me, Allah be pleased, I just said a prayer for killin'
Old friend, big brother snitchin' and he ain't get him injured
Before you speak on me, look, please go find me them two niggas
Find me one who stuck dick in me, or the one I sent to prison
Jail catcher, smell like fingernail polish when it (Grrt)
Paramedics, yeah, put the yellow tape around the trap
When we was children, to much cup, we accidentally caught a hack
Told my uncle, no more fastlane, he told me you'll be back
He told me you ain't commit murder and then went and did that to his self
Coco-cola, soda bath, yoga class to make you stretch
My conscious be messin' with me, make me think I need some help
Hmm, just turned on the digi, in the kitchen by myself
Self-made, stand up
You ain't got two hats under your belt, then pick your pants up
Zips up in the can, I know how to get (Grrt), off of handcuffs
Callin' home to move about me 'cause I don't harbor no cowards
X'd out one of my partners 'cause he don't keep it a thousand
Used to share each others clothes, local products of public housing
Only rock with the real, really, solo how I be rockin'
One day I prayed to God, to send me beaucoup bricks of powder
Taught us snorters nice and taller
Boilin' water, I got power
Two black eyes, a broken nose, when I had focus, I got crowded
Nowadays, for he who try, catch your mama upside down
Graduated to Waffle House, back then, it used to be McDonalds
Hmm, created recreations, peep the cop in polo collars
Hmm, drop the ballcap, pull up, park the whip, hop out it
Monster status, silverback, you go to yards under the towers
Long as I'm here, make sure Mucho and Mazi still receive they flowers
After this, might send a blitz, go talk to God and take a shower
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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