Little Vic and Rasheed Chappell - Tax Free

Peace Beloved
Peace

Fuck around with Free and grow the beard back
It's my word
Yo

All l wanted was the Presidential
The ice bezel
Pretty little light skin bitch
That's so ghetto
Hood fame
Good name l stayed solid
And make sure we all gon eat
If l got it
I plotted
I jotted
iPod'ed
And studied all the Nasir Jones
And Sean Carter's
Then went harder
My Shahada was my debut
The door cracked
Got a foot in the game
Gotta watch my step
Other foot in the grave
If this n*ggas get a line on you
Drop a dime on you
Fucking with them alphabet boys
They got time for you
Crown Royal in a Crown Victorian
Drive with a license to kill
With Hill rolling up
Count em out
Then we fold up the hunids
And throw em on these bitches
While they holding in the stomach
We at the afties
Hoes is in the back seat
Ask how l like my money
I tell em tax free
And not a day late or dollar short
Fuck around and lose your life
Before a dollar lost
It's my word


I thought Jordan's and a gold chain
Was living it up
Now it's Jordan's in some floor seats
Lakers and Bucks
Flicks with Magic on the promenade
Showing my teeth
For days we was fed hope
Nothing to eat
Nothing to see
Just Black Men all in our grace
Doing miles in the morning
See it all in my face
Thinking plant based diet
Tried it
Miss fish
I know Kil pissed he missed this
Not to miss him is an exercise
I do it daily
Talk about him
I do it rarely
It still hurts been years since
Was called home
Mia got a baby
Life goes on
And look at me the bachelor
No more ring
I had to leave my Queen
To become King
Different night
A different slice
It's all pie
I had to go to war
To gain peace of mind

Written by:
Rasheed Chappell

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sentric Music

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