A Way Out Lyrics

Pack touched down, I spread it like a rumor

Oldschool sweatsuit, velour with the Puma

Mezcal-Mexican, cigar from Cuba

You are my child, my son, my junior

If it's real then salute ya

Snakes in the grass, turn ya back-they will shoot ya

Boy got shot, walked it off-he a trooper

But I'm still running from the shells, King Koopa

The coke kept getting stepped on

Hit his crib, swept the floor like a Roomba

We only link to talk business, I don't hang out

I'm stuck in the trap, still looking for a way out

One foot in the drug game

PTSD, still think bout the blood stains

Almost got a shotgun, but that aint enough range

Boy sweet as sugar, don't pump cane

What you know about the cops searching through the vehicle

Had to tuck the pack, and you nervous cuz there's a three of you

Cant give my energy to those who don't return it

Only hit me when convenient but you left me when I needed you

Here's a gift, suck my dick, that's from me to you

Forty-five, in your eyes, playing peekaboo

Had to keep it cool, I don't need to shoot

These niggas sweet, they seedless fruit

If you need the recipe, I got it in my head

Niggas only shooting, because violence is a trend

Boogeyman glock, I got a monster by the bed

Could've caught a body, but I ain't blinded by revenge

Pack touched down, I spread it like a rumor

Oldschool sweatsuit, velour with the puma

Mezcal-Mexican, cigar from Cuba

You are my child, my son, my junior

Plug hit me, told me he got ten ready

Double that and we good to go

We only link to talk business, I don't hang out

I'm stuck in the trap, still looking for a way out

If he got a problem then he better see me

Loved ones just keep dying, and it's never easy

Bad lil bitch on my hip, she Nefertiti

How you got Alfredo with no fettuccine

I went from feeling stuck in a bear cage

To champagne drunk on a airplane

You can try your luck, it's a fair game

Fuck that, he can get the nickel, its spare change

I was hiding in the slums, smoke frying up his lungs

Never touched money, you a liar and a bum

Think fast, step up in the booth, drink gas and set fire his tongue

Laying on the floor, just coughing up blood

Kick him, why you fuck up my new rug

This ain't highschool, I don't do drugs

Just say what you need, and I'll get you plugged

Pack touched down, I spread it like a rumor

Oldschool sweatsuit, velour with the Puma

Mezcal-Mexican, cigar from Cuba

You are my child, my son, my junior

If it's real then salute ya

Snakes in the grass, turn ya back-they will shoot ya

Boy got shot, walked it off-he a trooper

But I'm still running from the shells, King Koopa

The coke kept getting stepped on

Hit his crib, swept the floor like a Roomba

We only link to talk business, I don't hang out

I'm stuck in the trap, still looking for a way out