Tek

[Verse 1: Grip]
Uh, and so it goes
Was rockin' stolen clothes back when Ludacris was throwin' bows
Dickies and Girbauds at the corner store on Panola Road
Livin' fast and dyin' young, nobody growin' old
Unspoken but understood like Morse code
You sellin' dope 'cause your mama crib got foreclose
And maybe add a few pairs of kicks to your wardrobe
You sick of livin' average, Lord knows
This shit done switched you to a savage, Lord knows
You down to split a nigga cabbage, Lord knows
You at the club, tryna hop down on some hoes and some random nigga done just stepped on your toes
If you was by yourself, you'd let it slide but since you with your bros, you stomped that nigga ass out and bloodied up his clothes
But here's some shit nobody knows
He sittin' in his car with a fully loaded TEC, he gon' wet up the parking lot as soon as that bitch close

[Beat Switch]

[Verse 2: Grip]
Yeah, hoe, uh, uh
Eastside is Spaghetti Junction, nigga pullin' up to the function
Four deep and the speakers be thumpin', pop the trunk and niggas be dumpin'
If you get caught slippin', you slumpin' and we came from nothing to something
We was selling midget and bunkin' back when all of you niggas was crumpin'
Can I get a witness, please?
We came from the mud, we never had gifts put under the Christmas trees
So then me and my niggas thought of a way that we could really get the cheese
Now I'm on top of these words, parenthesis
Don't go against the beast if you plan on keepin' your limbs and knees
I pray for my enemies, when I pull up, I'm bringing the shit like an enema
Down to swing like a pendulum but worst come to worst, then we shootin' like cinema
I grew up with criminals, keep it minimum with the subliminals
Opposition was never identical, niggas peakin', I'm not even at my pinnacle
I never did it for fame, me and my niggas is one and the same
Make you a little bit of change, everybody wanna say that you changed
I never did it for chains, I did it so me and my niggas can gain
Never stop spittin' these flames, nuh uh, never stop spittin' these flames

[Chorus: Grip]
Sweat, tears, blood, got up out of that mud
Hold you there like they ain't know who I was
Back when a nigga was stressin' that they never checked for me
Nowadays, niggas be checking that I got a check for me
My ex, she flexed on me but now she wanna be next to me
Wishin' the best for me, these niggas want in on the recipe
Angel protecting me but I keep a TEC on me
Angel protecting me but I keep a TEC on me

[Verse 3: Armani White]
I got the pounds off half of the price these niggas was talkin'
Get ya plug plugged for half of what them niggas was chargin'
Dozen legs, dropping eggs, had pitch 'em a carton
Incubate the wrinkled paper, get that chicken regardless
Fuck y'all niggas keep looking at? Fuck I'm getting mistooken as?
Twenty shots, run up in the parking lot, fuck y'all niggas keep shooting at?
Shaking down niggas for twenty-two hundred but fuck y'all want me to do with that?
They got caught at the library, brought him an offer, he turned to an author, they booked his ass
But I pray that you find me, with a plate at the First 48 and my zombies
An 8th in my laundry, my bitch in the front, and the station behind me
I pray that you clock me, any nigga that's watching, I'm taking his timepiece
And pray for my mommy, got insomnia but I'm hoping I make it inside, G

[Chorus: Grip]
Sweat, tears, blood, got up out of that mud
Hold you there like they ain't know who I was
Back when a nigga was stressin' that they never checked for me
Nowadays, niggas be checking that I got a check for me
My ex, she flexed on me but now she wanna be next to me
Wishin' the best for me, these niggas want in on the recipe
Angel protecting me but I keep a TEC on me
Angel protecting me but I keep a TEC on me