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letra de poet - neek bucks & dj hot murda

[intro: neek bucks]
(the murderous mixtapes)
(buckroll)
(i love you, kxvii)
yeah

[verse: neek bucks]
i don’t even rap this sh-t no more, i just be feelin’ like a poet
internal issues that need fixing and i know it
family thinkin’ i don’t trust ’em the way i’m smokin’ how i’m smokin’
so many times i could’ve folded, but i finally found some motion
had to learn to keep my chest out when i felt like it was over
finally traveled to jamaica, smokin’ bombas by the ocean
my auntie used to be addicted, i’m so happy that she sober
man, shout out to the ones that told a n-gga keep on goin’
i’m that n-gga and i know it
had to cut down on them b-tches i’m convo-ing
i’m around n-ggas that really got some motion, fifty thousand for a chauffeur
i feel a lot bеtter when i’m sober
but somеtimes, i get to stressin’ and go dirty up a soda
me knowin’ what i’m knowin’, i don’t be knowin’ ’bout this b-tch
i don’t know if she on the internet on other n-ggas’ d-cks
i don’t know if we have a baby, she won’t play ’round with my jit
i don’t know if they come and get me, she gon’ be down to do this bid
please don’t ask why i’m aggressive, can you answer all my questions?
tellin’ all my problems to this dancer in my section
miss my niece so f-ckin’ much, cancer took a blessing
once i get the millions, i’ma share it with the steppers, n-gga, yeah
i could go in front that wall, but then i know what i’m gon’ hear
i done got so many nos before i finally got a yeah
he got caught with his first gun, he better be glad he caught that year
ain’t no friends in the industry, these n-ggas just my peers
yeah, but shout out to the ones i know that’s ridin’ ’til the wheels fall
tryna do no rap beef, i’ll get a n-gga stepped on
he frustrated, he ain’t get a deal with all them drill songs
sh-t, look at how my daughter smilin’, i do this off of real songs (the murderous mixtapes)
tryna find a thick pretty b-tch that i can feel on
and i’m tryna break her back, you know, get my shaquille on
and she tryna bring her friend, chill, baby, hold on
don’t d-ck ride, to any n-gga that ever switched sides
it’s real and personal, i’ma get it right this time
this time, i’ma k!ll n-ggas this time
you got your daddy, n-gga, hold him tight, i miss mine
the sh-t i’m on is like a whole ‘nother focus level
i had to fall back from n-ggas, they was oversteppin’
i watched so many n-ggas crash ’cause they ain’t know no better
sh-t, youngin finally made the tv ’cause they overstretched him
that pill poppin’ on my side at an all-time high
i asked my youngin why he do it, he said it’s the sh-t that make him feel my music
he a coldblooded shooter, but he throw me on when he be goin’ through it
every time he feel like he about to lose it
i don’t sell no crack no more, but i ain’t done with the trenches
how the f-ck i’ma turn my back on any one of them n-ggas?
this sh-t get cutthroat, if you ain’t got your gun, you a victim
and this that type of sh-t that f-ck ’round, get your mother a sentence
i’m goin’ up, you say you on that drill, well, no throwin’ up
just got off a jail call, bro tell me how he holdin’ up
he in them state greens gellin’, he know ain’t no foldin’ up
shout out them n-ggas that was in them rooms and never told ’em nothin’, i commend you (the murderous mixtapes)
[outro: neek bucks]
i don’t even rap this sh-t no more, i just be feelin’ like a poet
yeah, like a poet
keep that

- neek bucks dj hot murda

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