FSG Rell - State of Mind (feat. Don Gunna)

Yo
Listen
Pistol on me
It's OBH for life we can get it homie
Free Ab ima carry it wit my nigga Lo
Just like a female posting status for attention
Begging for reactions waitin hoping for a mention
The way I slaughter this nigga gone make em wanna murder me
The AK shooting wit a shoulder stop you gone need surgery
They heard of me
Niggas is frauding if they ain't heard of me
Spreading lies all on my name
Yeah the nerve of eem
Nigga yeah they know that I'm the motivation
She was Italian but she blow Jamaican
Out Jersey really roll wit Haitians
Smoking Charlie Pope, fishing 4 some bricks
Triple M The mob
Yeah we really in this bitch
They need to give me an award for my craft and penmen ship
He got a little clout now he thinking that he lit
I hit my brother Rell then he shot him and his bitch
Woah
If there's a drill to be done I ain't sliding wit niggas I'm doing it solo
Five bullet holes and now that buhl rappin about it I'm giving you promo
I was the first like Soulja boy, and niggas is stealin my Mojo
The rapper you thought was a rapper, he drillin again now you thumbin through photos
Back when Obama was new
I would cheat on my bitches and tell them he got me to change
You might of met a lil nigga that came from my block and my corner
But we ain't da same
They try give lil A two football fields like bro ain't got no game
I know he holdin us down, he talkin bout money for real he doing his thang
Really I'm pimpin, I'm trickin on bitches but I never had a bitch tricking on me
I had em scared to be working wit niggas so when I had started I did it for cheap
Give her this dick, takin her shoppin then right after that she go crazy for me
Give her the line, there ain't no doubt in my mind my lil bitch spraying for me
I really dance wit the devil but it don't bother me much we playin my music
They had a gun to my head I laughed n smiled for real I told em to do it
Moving the money tonight but after I'm done wit that we gone go through it
Lil bro asked for the line I don't gotta ask for what, he know what he doing
Rule number 1 don't tell these bitches you love em, you do it that shit a mistake
Rule number two make sure you get to the money and when you get money you save
Rule number three make sure you turn up so much ya opps they roll in they grave
Rule number four make sure you wit the right ppl cause niggas get shot everyday
Rule number five don't ever tell on the guys, niggas tell rumors and lies
Ain't no surprise
If you tell rumors and lies then you prolly not one of mines
Lowkey I'm fried
See me on Washington High
Fuckin up my state of mind
Ain't no finesse
Ain't no finesse
Remember when niggas said they was gone slide on me
They didn't that shit was pretend
Them niggas know what they doing
But they don't wann war it wit us so where to begin
Me nd my boy, youngins jus hopped in the game the horrors turned us into men
So whatchu thought, niggas is keeping this business
Cause ion see none of them friends
I'm gettin za in the mail, I know I'm takin a risk but we don't send
Won't catch me makin no wish at 11:11, I see it I'm thinking of slim
Na took over the stores and didn't have to wig out once that's prolly my Twin
Lookin for food, I'm a big shark in the water right now I'm showin my fin
You never carry a ratchet cause you ain't a shooter for real just stay on da bench
It could be 2011, don't matter the year that it happened we took it offense
We don't vacation no more so when you see us out of town it's for an event
I don't be betting too crazy but if some get put on the line we gone win
Workin wit 3 mobile phones that's 3 different bags I'm looking to add two more
I like to spend on my bitch cause ion be worried bout none she gettin Dior
If I get rocked for a pound and niggas don't know what to say I'm coming for yours
We seen a nigga get popped but we don't know if he dead we make it for sure

Written by:
Don Gunna, Tyrell Barr

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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