BackWood Jones - Can't Call It

Mind full of thoughts that'll pass the day
And Rest In Peace all the niggas that done passed away
Ain't too many of us left, Imma ball by myself, feeling like Tom Hanks up in Castaway
And I have to say
Money always over accolades, feeling like they have to hate
And everybody start to lacerate and it'll hit you in the face like some aftershave
I go after pay
Let them other niggas lie up in their raps, I don't cap I just captivate
I got racks to make
So many trees I think this Christmas, shoutout Donny Hathaway
Even if we make the same amount we ain't equal
I been outside since Girbaud's and Evisu's
Real crack house shit from a fetal
Ever seen a nigga chase a high with a needle
See I don't need you, hope you don't need me
But if you know me then my love run sea deep
I get out the way quicker than the Road Runner when he telling Wile E Coyote "beep beep"
I got floor seats
And ever since I started cooling, I been feeling like they coming round with more heat
To tell the truth all you 20K niggas is the reason I don't even run around in Dior sneaks
It's about timing, I just hope time don't run out on me
I can't call it
I'm out here grinding, I don't see them, I focus on me
I can't call it
I'll keep on shining, tell em I'm climbing up to nose bleeds
I can't call it
This just ain't rhyming, I do all kinds of shit to make cheese
I can't call it
I can't call it
I can't call it
I can't call it
Money come and go but it's never before the family
I'm trying to get em over the hump you understand me
Because ain't shit sweet that's candy
Imma mix between Huey Newton and Meyer Lansky
I'm from where the niggas paint your face like Bansky
But it's starting to get to reckless though
The kids getting hit, bitch, that's amateur shit man I thought you was professionals
Now let me lock and load, I got a lot to show
I rock ice because I grew up on a rocky road
School of dope, I took lots of notes
I didn't miss class even with a doctors note
I get the pot that grow, from outta Califo
I ship it back and pop it off just like a calico
I got a bag to blow and trying to add some more
And if she old news bro, you can have the hoe
I'll take risks, your bitch, your shit and everything else
Even if you with your gang you gonna need help
Get right otherwise you getting left
Shout out my nigga Tee Jr., that's BMF
If I'm riding with you nigga I don't need a seatbelt
I can hold my own on my own I don't need help
Every night without the shadow of a doubt, I survived another drought that's the only way I sleep well
It's about timing, I just hope time don't run out on me
I can't call it
I'm out here grinding, I don't see them, I focus on me
I can't call it
I'll keep on shining, tell em I'm climbing up to nose bleeds
I can't call it
This just ain't rhyming, I do all kinds of shit to make cheese
I can't call it
I can't call it
I can't call it
I can't call it

Written by:
Gregory Cherry

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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