The Crab Barrel ft. John Wells Lyrics

The Countyside made me like this

Out to get a buck

Eastside til I die

Used to never giving up

And my over west homies

Numb to pain

But keep in touch

With how the hate

Keep us down

When we lit it up

See, I took the time

To search my soul

Just to become the master

Too Conceited

If I slow it down

An angel told me faster

So now, I am back in this bih

With the lack of forgiveness

For taking my time

The realest who always understand

The grind, will never had

Question the terms that define

My characters

Hours and hours and hours

Of healing the sickest of thoughts

Wishing my wins

Recouped for the loss

All of my census

Helping the hood

At no length of the cost

First day back

They ask am I a myth or a legend

Streets keep calling, I don't answer

But I text them

Jawn was on silent

No restrictions, let freedom ring

Tell them, one knight

I'll finally hit you when I'm King

Meantime, peasants live off fallacy

Happily pretend

Probably could foster a home

For their imaginary friends

Ayy

The Countyside made me like this

Out to get a buck

Eastside til I die

Used to never giving up

And my over west homies

Numb to pain, but keep in touch

With the hate tried

To keep us down

When we lit it up

The Countyside made me like this

Out to get a buck

Eastside til I die

Used to never giving up

All my over west homies

Numb to pain, but keep in touch

With how the hate

Try to keep us down

When we lit it up

See Lor Lucky Cover from

1045 to the Brooklyn Homes

And Owings Mills to Middle River

And everything in between

And I gotta be specific

I don't wanna hear

Fuck you mean

I'm East to West, and Down to Jacks

Like I'm Stacks in 2014

I do this for my brothers

But I really get money for me

Because honestly I ain't nothing

Nobody want me to be

So if they want me

Then they gonna have to bring

An Army Fatigue

And catch me in the woods

You'll never be this good

These bitches check for me

I don't even feel safe enough

To let her eat the wood

But with the money

In my pocket

She thinkin' she met the plug

So everywhere I go

I think sugar and butter in a bowl

Cause they probably turn to a baker

If they had knew who I was

So it's MaNiya and my mama

The only women I trust

And if you ain't my brother

You can probably get hit

By a bus, because I need

Some money now, fore the day

I gotta turn to dust

You tryna come around now

You ain't getting shit outta Luck

Fuck is you talkin' bout?