Ramadan - Smoke DZA, NYM LO, Benny the Butcher

Heard they put her son down like Ramadan

(Niggas gettin' tried left and right, homie)

Then they wonder why the streets left us traumatized

(Shit ain’t no game, nigga)

Traumatized (Uh), traumatized

I got a budget just to keep new Dior in my closet (Right)

New handheld pistols on my niggas like wallets

Big business, so you know, it’s a bigger deposit

High-tech money machines to speed up the process (Uh)

I don’t explain the process to novices, what’s the object?

Hand full of

off the optics

Uh, they hate to see me livin' my life

Them «back-in-the-days"-stories still ain’t changing the price

Don’t get caught up in position and power, for the hour

Niggas get to cappin' 'bout smoke, I light the loud up

I got niggas rich, you got niggas clipped

Embarrassed, investigated, all types of shit

I underestimated the scripts, the hyphenate (Uh)

You started of 30's and ended with Vicodins

Worst thing you could do with a drug is light the shit

The ratio from dealer to user is hightening

Your life’ll end

Parked the spaceship in front of mama’s fry (G shit)

We was taught to squeeze 'til the drama die (Brrt)

Homie, don’t be the reason that your mama cry (Please don’t)

Heard they put her son down like Ramadan

(Niggas gettin' tried left and right, homie)

Then they wonder why the streets left us traumatized

(Shit ain’t no game, nigga)

Traumatized, traumatized

It’s all good 'til rules get broke, and crews get smoked

It’s crazy when you get rich off the truth you smoke

And them niggas you fuck with only poof, you broke

Got really fool patrol, had to trap on cruise control, yeah

Uh, you know I hit the interstate scorin' 'caine

Quarter thing, before I left I got a oil change

Off the 63 where your bitch stay, when you this straight

The pussy always free, but the bricks ain’t

But my wrist great, yeah

My only jackpot was a crackpot

They say I used to be a hustler, shit, when that stop?

My new customers ask me when that drop

It’s still fifty racks dropped just to wack opps

When I was younger I just wanted to be a fireman

I grew up fast, buying yams, supplying grams

Your favorite rapper in my diet plan

I kept it gangsta, my choices was live a rat, or die a man

Parked the spaceship in front of mama’s fry (G shit)

We was taught to squeeze 'til the drama die (Brrt)

Homie, don’t be the reason that your mama cry (Please don’t)

Heard they put her son down like Ramadan

(Niggas gettin' tried left and right, homie)

Then they wonder why the streets left us traumatized

(Shit ain’t no game, nigga)

Traumatized (Uh), traumatized

If we talkin' hustlers, I’m ahead of them all (Facts)

And if we talkin' rap niggas, I’m beheadin' 'em all (Uh)

Did it all just to ball, but was never incarce'

'Cause a fish with its mouth closed could never get caught, uh

I slide through the trenches with this .40 on my hip

Deuce-deuces in the purse, a lil' shawty in my whip (Got that)

I slip through mo' towns than Barry Gordy with the bricks

I got rich, kid, guess I’m Tory with the bricks

If I call my body-droppers they gon' shotty shot 'em

Catch you in your buildin', get your lobbies rockin'

Spin the block and tell 'em hop in (Hop in)

Then we skrt on them niggas like, «damn, they killed 'em» (Skrrt)

Witness said they fled

just like some pilgrims

Always on the guild then

We always been them niggas and we still them

I step outside the Hilton, they film him

Hop into some plush shit with stashboxes built in

And tablets for the children, and panoramic ceilings

(Lawd)

Parked the spaceship in front of mama’s fry (G shit)

We was taught to squeeze 'til the drama die (Brrt)

Homie, don’t be the reason that your mama cry (Please don’t)

Heard they put her son down like Ramadan

(Niggas gettin' tried left and right, homie)

Then they wonder why the streets left us traumatized

(Shit ain’t no game, nigga)

Traumatized (Uh), traumatized