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letra de how i got em - david bars & showbiz

[verse 1]
pride gon’ be the death of me
one day that sh-t probably gon’ get the best of me
that’s what they tell me
i got the ingredients for the recipe
when i’m gone, they still could be build a g*nius off of what’s left of me
i’m way too advanced, that’s why they got respect for me
and check for me
and ain’t got no problem signin’ off on f-ckin’ check for me
i see the glory and especially
all the snakes in the gr-ss, tryin’ to p-ss, that’s my specialty
i got it made, my flow r-t-rded, i’m special ed
.38 special, i’m tryin’ to keep a level head
when i do spit, it’s a news clip, several dead
god body, but i sleep better inside the devil bed
all white brand new car, interior devil red
instead of the jesus piece, i might cop the devil head
“look at my wrist, lil’ b-tch”, that’s what the bezel said
i got too much pride, who am i?

[chorus]
got ’em on that black rob ish, they like whoa!
is anybody compet-tion for me? b-tch, no
i get on my biggie sh-t, and i kick in the door
milli vanilli n-gg-, they just tryin’ to steal all these flows
got ’em on that black rob ish, they like whoa!
is anybody compet-tion for me? b-tch, no
i get on my biggie sh-t, and i kick in the door
milli vanilli n-gg-, they just tryin’ to steal all these flows

[verse 2]
i just saw basquiat sell a piece for 110.5 mil’
this art thing is real
i’m here to be the greatest, man, it’s our thing for real
my team always workin’, it ain’t our thing to chill, for real
i never slack off, i pursue the time
you gon’ see my alb-m on the wall at the guggenheim
i’m too inclined, tunnel vision
who f-ckin’ with him? n-body true as mine
they prayin’ on my fall, i’m doin’ fine
they never know the consequences ’til they do the crime
there’s hidden gem in my verses, read through the lines
in the trap paranoid peekin’ through the blinds
if you pull out ya gun make sure that you shoot in time
a lot of soft n-gg-s committed murders
it don’t count as a body if you caught it from bein’ nervous
somebody always die, the pastor gotta repeat the service
so much that he tired of it and don’t even see the purpose
good god, i live by the hood laws
where drug dealers turn into hood stars
we drivin’ them good cars, to us that’s a good job
pat him on the shoulder like “good job!”
but that ain’t no good job

- david bars showbiz

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