Bars In The Booth Lyrics - Singles - Papoose

[Verse] 

My city so real out of towners wish they was the king of it 

While the government shut down on their own, that's what I call self destruction 

My young cousin died on the streets hustling 

His daughter suffering, wow 

He didn't live to one day walk her down the isle 

I'll take his place, I'll be there in a suit and a smile 

She don't gotta thank me, your daddy was brave 

He would've did this for me if I was in the grave 

Haters be sabotaging 

Disrespect you on a website and call it blogging 

All up in the comments 

They say ''he was supposed to save rap from the nonsense'' 

Fell short, need food for thought, we are starving 

He's good, his city bad, that's his installment 

He think he better than his own city, that's preposterous 

It's a problem my involvement is from 

Brooklyn to Harlem, they depend on me to solve it 

Hiding behind a major label fortress 

Swims in pools of liquor, alcoholic 

Stuck his neck out like an ostrich, he a moving target 

To the death on you bastards 

When I die put a street sweeper in my casket 

And close it, just let me lay there with the ratchet 

Yeah, dust to dust and ashes to ashes 

So the snake who killed me could walk in laughing 

By the grace of God I'mma jump up blasting 

Acting like you built, you'se a fucked up has-been 

I dress with a gun talk fashion 

I'm a monster, sucker [?] 

I spit America's Most Wanted bars 

My willpower got more will than a hundred cars 

I'mma show these niggas how to deal, just cut the cards 

You'se a cocksucking broad, look 

You got something you wanna get off your chest besides your fucking bra 

Stop throwing hints, throw shots, confront it, pa 

I don't got drama with none of y'all 

But I hope you niggas kill each other, I don't like neither one of y'all 

You can go try and get whoever you want involved 

Tell 'em I'm a problem that they can't fucking solve 

Acting like you really thugging hard and bucking crons 

He thugging because of y'all 

They put the battery in your back, now you think you a fucking star 

Hit you on the back and blow the battery out of your stomach, pa 

Who died and left them in charge? 

Carried so many hoods on my shoulders I need somebody to give me a massage 

Selling jars of weed if he pull out another jar 

Fuck hugging the block, I'mma have him hugging God 

Cross me and your heart won't live to beat another throb 

My gun got fired so much it needed another job 

I told you in Alphabetic Slaughter I was at large 

My whole burrough be bucking crons 

You can't come to Coney Island bumping niggas, you bugging, pa 

You ain't just brushing pads, nigga, you bumping hard 

Next time make sure you know who you bumping, pa 

Most of my Coney Island niggas'll leave you slumped on them bumping cars 

Stop saying you won't get a nigga who front and rob 

I don't care if you won't, I would like a lumber yard 

Every time you see the entourage we come to rob 

Charge with a barrage, regardless coming hard 

Hit harder than Bernard, we parked in your garage 

Your broad's in a menage, hearts becoming large 

Your dogs is docking, dodge us, your squad is running job 

Arson grand larceny lancing 

Bars of pardon in front of y'all 

Carve a couple scars 

Harlem, some parts of Yonkers 

Way across the Bronx and from 

Cradle to coffin, give a fatal abortion 

I'm able to off 'em, Brook' 

Now I'm the [?] buzzing hard 

Don't cross the reservoir 

Dog, see you at the next mob, the son of song 

Related 

Naughty & Nice Christmas Songs 

Watch Cardi B Joins James Corden For Carpool Karaoke 

Ariana Grande Adds Her Own Verse To "Last Christmas" 

Photos