A New Day Songtext

Hey, yo
They still trying to find a flaw
I write the bars that's just stories of the ghettos through the eyes of god
Me and the devil had a fire spark
Left on getting the lap dance from Nas X in a designer bra

Coming up, we aspired to buy a pyrog. Then we moved on to cyber fraud as time evolved
I mean, a bullet paralyzed my jaw
Still niggas top fives and all
Imagine if I started trying hard

You boys ain't built for the trenches, you just too brittle
My man got hit twice, drove himself to the spittle
They tough in an interview, when you see them, they act as civil
Plus, I built my brand up too big to try to be little

Momma, there go that man again
The order come in from Cali. I meet him in Cincinnati
The music industry, Aggie I'm staying indie like Halleys

These underhanded heathens, running rampant, gunning slanting, squeezing. We in and out them precincts
Shootouts in local bars on the weekends. Technical fouls, flags on the defense. God's blessing their child that's lacking the street sense

These underhanded heathens. Running rampant, gunning slanting, squeezing. We in and out them precincts
Shootouts in local bars on the weekends. Technical fouls, flags on the defense
God's blessing their child that's lacking the street sense

There's not a day that goes by that I'm not the greatest
Display the bitter class and think you qualify the greatest
No matter how much money you stack, you're not on my a list
The blackest grouch on a slave ship
A nightmare to attics when crack was out on the grave ship

I turned avenues into cemeteries and corner stores to court to law
Slamming the gavel, battle the lords of war
Bodies in the corridor, bullets enter his stomach, then exit his lower back
Every clap is given his corridor

Horned by demons, but I fought him more
Coalsay is scared of his 6¢, here the gruesome tales of a slaughtered horde. It's chaos, everyday I'm feeling it more and more
Who cares if god's winning, if Satan's gonna ignore the score?

Every street song I wrote for this movie is scored by V. Don
No time for the poor peasants and peons
We need money like Elon. You ain't worth the rug that I wipe V. Don
Celine like Dion

We out here till the street lights creep on. Scripts that's written about a sheet long. Tedders so we can recite each arm
Black fatigues squatting on the ops doing recon
Relax and squeeze, stop and send them shots out of Nissan

These underhanded heathens, running rampant, gunning slanting, squeezing. We in and out them precincts
Shootouts in local bars on the weekends. Technical fouls, flags on the defense. God's blessing their child that's lacking the street sense

These underhanded heathens. Running rampant, gunning slanting, squeezing. We in and out them precincts
Shootouts in local bars on the weekends. Technical fouls, flags on the defense
God's blessing their child that's lacking the street sense