Grandma called, see me on the billboards around the city
We're barely making dollars at our peanut jobs, close to me,
Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops
More pro's then con's to me, more jobs to complete like dropping new bombs/
On, thanksgiving we thankful, just for livin in helldamn homey, i don't mean to be harsh
I learnt much from the way i was taught, so i'm grindin' at uni and im slavin' at jobs
And every day my mama drifts jobs like she's sleep-walking,
Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing
Don’t wanna have me then somebody will
Mediocre jobs are not so stable
So the right to have these women, i'm entitled to their interest
Puttin all those cali and new york jobs on my wishlist,
Like the nigga on the block waving his glock but won't squeeze
I own multiple chains, outsource jobs, and ship 'em overseas,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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