BadGuyGoodGuy - Thelonious Martin, Ab-Soul, Retch

Bad Health bro

This that shit my nigga

Tangled in this Hell hole, prolly slept with the dope packs

Nomads roaming, tasting the cognac

Jakes they all adore you, so you might as well just off yourself

Awful health, Newports got me coughing up yellow shit

Pockets getting thinner, thoughts getting more devilish

Derelict, living a low life degenerate

Man’s shot, mom’s fucked up, bitches is sucking dick

Fucks a rap check, so I’m still right here on this fucking strip

Do a show for four thousand people then go and sell a zip

Go on tour then post in front the store like I ain’t got a cent

Dropping packs in the hood like the UPS nigga

When I fuck these next plates up I’ma have to get the next nigga

Or wait until the, said that niggas got a show (chill nigga)

And they gon' toss a lil' dough so now I’m back up on the road

But it still ain’t shit cause my moms who got the house

So the of these thoughts is threw the 5 for the ounce

Yo yo

You know the block is hot son, you need to chill out

You got a future ahead of you

I know you sick of the fiends fiending to get ahead to you

And risking your life

Mr. You-Know-Where-To-Find-Me-For-The-7-For-The-90, I

Know your circumstances coming up was fucked up

But your only 21 and you ain’t diss anyone, deadass

Your past is what makes your present special

Fuck a rap cheque?

that cheque paid for the pack for the session

Listen lil homie, I know I’m only 27

But I kept my head down like God in Heaven and I got my blessings

A lot of my niggas doing bids tryna live like this

Beating off while we really in bitches ribs

No A-1 sauce on my filet mignon

Could make 40 off a brick, I did that in 2 shows

Yo

'til Kendrick tossed me hundred

Now I don’t fuck with making five, don’t agree with any guys

Hear what you saying but you really gotta feel me my nigga

Cause just the other day they tried to kill Trizzy my nigga

But they hit 'em in the leg, I was working in the basement

Then the news hit my phone, I’m thinking 'bout retaliation

Grab a big sized .40 or adjust it for the Uzi

Then cut the scene on them niggas, hit the block and make a movie

I pull up like I’m working on my bicepts

And break a pound in my man’s crib inside the projects

Take a piss in the stairs like I ain’t just leave the brib

I remember it was nights and my stomach touched my ribs

Record fucked up, lips black, was smoking all these roaches

tatted on my face, since the jump this shit was hopeless

On my birthday, no party, no cake or nothing

We was broke, what you think I sold dick for nothing (sorry)

Man’s passed when I was 15 on the day that I was born

By some nigga from the hood that might have made a couple songs

Hey hey, hang on

What kind of attitude is that?

Surely not the one to reach the altitude I’m at

I ain’t saying put in an application or nothing crazy

Ain’t no fear in your heart?

No need to be afraid of a little patience

Like the pediatrics

They say sometime the rap game remind them of the crack game

Find a balance

Cause what they did with 16 zips, I did with 16 Raws in 2010

I know the pen ain’t right, that’s why I ain’t use it to write

You don’t even got an I.D., what laws are you abiding?

(man)

Retch I ain’t tryna change you, just give you some game

To make the transition, from the streets to the fame

Yo, that shit corny, word is Bond, Soulo listen

Shoulda copped a fucking brick when you dropped Control System

We coulda took it to the hood and bagged it 'til our hands callus

Ha, remember all that shit that you was talking about the balance?

Lil scale, lil sale, prolly do a show at Yale

Get back and the

Get Mac to pay the bails

Well, you do have a point there

It ain’t like I ain’t tryna ball like I play point here

But what if they point fingers?

nigga, I’m a public figure already

Everybody seen my picture already

If you play behind the workers like you play behind the shades

Do your thing up on the stage and slip out every couple days

We could chef up all the yola, put some bitches on the blade

Had the junkies sharing needles, prolly give each other aids

(Damn, guess we can get in all ways)

Fuck it, they give each other aids (Niggas is grown these days)

Yeah now you get it, catching on to it (Mhm, okay)

Had these niggas on, wet up that raw fluid

(But if I heard her speak) Nah, we got niggas in the streets

And they don’t eat nothing but bars

You come through and they’ll shoot from the car

And zoom choppers same size as guitars

And let 'em know that this trip here is ours

(I mean you ready for War) Hell yeah I’m ready for War

(Yo, fuck all this HiiiPower talk, how much that whole thing cost?)