Never Change Lyrics - Make 'em Believe - Kevin Gates

Pretty hair 

Puerta Rican shawty don't like thugs 

Baby mothers proud of me 

She think I don't sell drugs 

Nights without the rubber, emergency contraceptive 

Eat the pill or the steel I'm workin I'm gettin better 

I'm surfacin' in my section 

I'm lurkin' I'm with my weapon 

It's personal when I catch em 

I'm perfect get personaler 

For certain you betta' tell him 

If he ever try to cross us 

Don't take kind to taken losses 

In the bottom it get real around here 

Trap girl 

Whatchu mean? 

We be up all night 

Boomin' speakers, Neck freezin' this that shit y'all like 

Whoever play the biggest piece that's the dick y'all bite 

Arm hangin' out the window glisten wrist all ice 

Listen, this is where it kinda get fishy 

Pay attention 

House clique special response mission they goin' in and 

Bail bondsman and the lawyer retarded gon' getchu lost a hundred racks 

Jacked by the plug they goin' in it 

This one goes out to my niggas in the penitentiary shackled in the chains 

And the prayers go up to the family members victims of the game 

And this street life and the streets all night we cook and sell cocaine 

Ballin, flossin Takin losses what comes with the game 

Never change (Change, change, change, change, change, change, change) 

And this street life and the streets all night we cook and sell cocaine 

Ballin, flossin Takin losses what comes with the game 

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Father God I been betrayed 

Never knew what it was like to be used 

Never had a father figure confused as a youth 

Movin' with dudes who Was cooler 

The public viewed us as losers 

I mean I need some new sneaker 

Breakin' and enterin' foolishness (Whatchu doin?) 

Big Beeze done seen us goin' hard 

One day he pull up in the yard 

He like, Look Kevin man let's grab a bite 

Let's go sit down and talk 

The neighborhood under pressure 

Kevin you and them niggas raw 

Cousin got a chop shop 

I can pay you for stolen cars 

Block full of that brick 

Steady rollin' cigars 

12 street servin' fiends 

Police patrollin' in cars 

Big London put that work in my life no holdin' nuts 

I done played the house 

Be strict and cold and control the cuts 

Servin' dope to toaster close 

Got smokers approaching us 

Traffic through the back alley 

Got costumers strollin' up 

Same year, shrimp dead 

I took control of the slum 

Carolina Street the bottom embrace me with open arms