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(Intro: JID)
Gotta bring it to you cowards
And it’s gonna be sicker than all the niggas–
Yeah, uh, look
(Verse 1- JID)
You can tell a nigga like me aingt never had shit
R.I.P., I miss my dawgs like Mike Vic
Zombies in that midnight fog, them bars sic them
Gon’ fall victim to a gun brawl started over some bitches, huh
Niggas tripping, they taking whatever’s given
The irony when a nigga’s starving
Gotta grip the biscuit
Jump the fence, empty all the dishes out ya kitchen
If you witness it, then click, click, click
And they spill the grits
Feel the kick, fuck a fair catch
Kill them, who tryna take the hit?
First take go to first base, Stephen A. Smith Wess’
On the hill, talking shit like Skip
Or Shannon, sharp-shooting off the top of the cliff
And if I gotta bring it to you cowards
Then it’s gonna be sick
Put in my ten thousand hours while the clock still ticks
Zone 6, five fingers with the “Suck my dick”
Me and Izzy was slap-boxing, nigga bust my lip
Start fighting, lil’ brother on some tough guy shit
But if you ever did me wrong
He on some “What’s right?” shit
Bust a left, feel the pressure like the bus pipe drip
Blood red rum sipping, they aingt cut like this
(Chorus- JID)
Mama said, “When you fall down, stand up, get a bandage”
“I aingt got cheeseburger money, make a sandwich”
“Why you being bad? See ya dad, get your ass whipped”
Seven crackhead bad kids in a caravan, yeah
(Interlude: JID)
Somebody involved in stealing, it’s on, it wasn’t
It’s gon’ be so bad, yeah
When the girl went off on Precious
The girl went off on Precious
The girl went off on Precious and Rosen went in
No, Rosen said, “Oh, for real
I’ll see you when you get outside
Exactly, exactly
That’s okay, my fault, my fault, my fault
For real? No, no, no, no, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, hold on, hol,
Look, check, look
(Verse 2- JID)
You can tell a nigga like me aingt met a nigga like me
Metaphysical things seen in dreams, what you believe?
You bleed, I bleed and draw blood
I’m a fucking artiste, Artest with the gun
I can give my world peace, give your world ether
Big dick or grief, I can give your girl either
She could be the, could be the collapse of a kingdom
But king’s gotta peep the seat, word to Caesar
Remind me to keep receipts, y’all shit weak
And I’m sorry that your bullshit leaked
See the volumes, it speaks to your broke speakers
Niggas breaking they back tryna promote some shit
That aingt even dope
They ask for my coat when I walk in the door
God flow, I don’t walk on the floor
God knows y’all hoes, y’all shows aingt pack in the door
Crack in the floor, I don’t even know
If niggas rapping no more, come on
(Bridge- JID)
‘Round in my city (Okay), I am my shooter
Minding my business, I am not you
‘Round in my city, I am my shooter
Minding my business, I am not you
‘Round in my city, I am my shooter
Minding my business, I am not you
‘Round in my city (Uh), I am my shooter (Look)
Minding my business (Uh, look), how about you?
(Verse 3- JID)
Look, uh, I do it for royal and Roseline?
Is he precious? Destin, strong seven kids
Different blessings (Hey)
Is he athletic as fuck? All-American star, hard head
Scholarship at a school in New Orleans
On the football shit, but in class
He on the smart shit (Hey)
Black man using his mind, it’s a target on your forehead
Gotta stay on point like a marksman
Make a mark, leave a footprint, went for a marching
Bro graduating so we heading to the blue state
Fam’ celebrating, granny cooking up a few cakes
Yeah, gown on with the cap like a toupee
Handed a diploma, all the ruse say, “Hooray”
Yeah, hooray, today, catch a bouquet
Tonight it probably be a movie, what’s a Blu-Ray?
I got some new Js and a fade, we hit the section
With the football team and a couple other professionals
It sound cool but really, this a confessional
Twenty minutes in it
Precious done went to the restroom (Hey)
Said they got to hitting with some women
And they about to get kicked out
They aingt even tell us what that shit was about
All I really seen from the big VIP couch
Was a nigga swing, it hit my sister right in the mouth
The bouncer tried to block the door
That way we couldn’t get out
But fuck that, the whole team bust that motherfucker down
Now we fighting in the street
It’s like ten and twenty-three
I was seventeen, swinging on any and everything
Bing bing, see my brother doing buddy like a boxing ring
Raj got a bitch doing the hair weave sling
So beautiful, beating ass was like a family thing
Fighting together made us tighter in spite of
How we would argue and scream
And now we brawling right outside of a party in New Orleans
And all the people start police-calling
Pack us inside of a paddy wagon, we sardines
To salting crackers that wanna shackle us in chains
Lo and behold, they held us in a holding cell for six
Or maybe seven hours just to let us go without a stain
But who’s to blame when all of us got the same mind frame?
We like a gang, mom
And pop’ll probably be proud of the shame
Pound for pound, my sister Precious never lost a fade
Got up off the ground and she said
She could hear my father saying
(Chorus- JID)
“When you fall down, stand up, get a bandage”
“I aingt got cheeseburger money, make a sandwich”
“Why you being bad? See ya dad, get your ass whipped”
Seven crackhead bad kids in a caravan, yeah
(Outro- JID)
Hold on, hold on, hold on
What happened? What happened? What happened?
He came in the club
We’re talking, we in the restaurant
I go in the bathroom open the door
“Dang B, you could’ve said something”
And I said B, you aingt gotta tell that
Aingt all that serious
And she was all “Oh, it’s that serious
Because you were in the bathroom”
Raj said, “Okay B, I got you B, come outside”
Taj, she opened the door, Raj said “Roof”
I said, “Oh no, we fighting”
Damn, she was in the stall
In the stall though?
Yeah, she was peeing, girl
She pulled her pants up
She opened the door and Raj fuck her
And you know what?
Official Music Video
Cast & Details :
Album- The Forever Story (2022) Singer- JID Produced By(Producer(s))- Nami, Cardiak, TBHits, Groove, Christo Written By(Lyricist(s)- Nami, Cardiak, TBHits, JID, Christo