3rd Rell - The Motive (feat. G.Code.Nj & Boss Dog)
Ain't no sunshine when the wind blows
Gun shots bodies chalked with the tagged toes
Man we living in the slums we ain't have goals
Money's fast on the ave somedays be mad slow (Laaa)
But you gotta make an order
Staying out longer just to make your quota
The boy's keep circling riding up on ya
And you keep the grip until you know a niggas motives
I ain't making pit stops I'm on the road to riches
See I'm chasing the bag you can hold the bitches
But if they coming then fuck it tell them roll the swishers
Man I'm all bout the numbers cus ain't no fucking limits
And if you talk it then live it anybody can get it
When I'm riding I'm gripping I hope that I'm forgiven
For the choices and decisions I made give me a pick and a shovel
I'm just paving the way
And I gotta be on my grind my niggas is getting checks yes
What the fuck you talking my niggas is up next yes
It's Jersey you heard me I get it early these niggas mad
I'm coming crazy it's 7:30 hold up
Let's get it poppin I'm on the block now still got the packs
So I'm ducking from them cops now
And we got the weapons got the rounds and they stockpiled
Plus I'm on the grind got me looking from the top down
All I know is pain that's all I've ever seen
People steady acting but I see behind the scenes
I can tell you facts most these niggas broke
Living off the next nigga see him moving coke
Thinking that you on but little did you know
That nigga felt the vibe when he taking out his dough
See a nigga plotting see it in your eyes
Swear you kept it hundred but he read between the lines
Now he bout to reup homie tryna ride
He gotta couple dollars he tryna get high
He thought the shit was funny cus this nigga got no money
So he asked him like how much do you got
He missing an O the shits like 200 a pop
He caught the nigga studering he got him all on the spot
His motive was exposed so he left his body to rot
Bap bap bap bap bap bap
Ain't no sunshine when the wind blows
Gun shots bodies chalked with the tagged toes
Man we living in the slums we ain't have goals
Money's fast on the block somedays be mad slow (Laaa)
But you gotta make an order
Staying out longer just to make your quota
The boy's keep circling riding up on ya
And you keep the grip until you know a niggas motive
You in your feelings like it's that time of the month
It's like they tryna bring a nigga down every time that I'm up
You really trying your luck cus I'm too fly to get stuck
So now I'm grinding for the bucks so she can buy what she wants
You better off tryna set it off with Queen Latifah
I sit alone on my throne I don't need y'all features
With your corny ass verses and those wack ass beats
I just holla at Money when I need that heat
I aim to be notorious like I'm BIG
With a fucking grand hustle like I'm TIP
Until I DIE it's fuck the PIG'S
You can't imagine what I've seen through my EYE'S
So cry now I'm forever laughing
Great Gates was the honeycomb
We had the basement buzzing like some yellow jackets
I'm hot as hell for heavens sake I think the devil's lacking
So I'ma grab this moment now cus some will never have it
Can you imagine what some people would sacrifice
Without a promise of an afterlife I paid half the price
For this life I chose I'm stronger cus I had to fight
Baffled minded by how you got a deal when you ain't half as nice
Mmm well I keep drawing a blank
I'm only 5'6 I'm really not as tall as you think
You only tough cause you got some alcohol in your tank
All gassed up until you crash and you fall on your face
But wait you want change without expecting to changed
That's fucking insane you better off running in place
Like a rat in a cage feeling shackled in chains
How can you ever be free if you keep acting the same
I got that lyrical heroin attacking your veins
An old soul they telling me that I ain't acting my age
But back in the days my durags was wrapping my waves
Was rapping for days dutch masters wrapping haze then I blaze
Ain't no sunshine when the wind blows
Gun shots bodies chalked with the tagged toes
Man we living in the slums we ain't have goals
Money's fast on the ave somedays be mad slow (Laaa)
But you gotta make an order
Staying out longer just to make your quota
The boy's keep circling riding up on ya
And you keep the grip until you know a niggas motive
Written by:
Gabriel Leon, Rodney Shomo, Terrel Defreece
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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