Critical Thinking lyrics

[Intro]
(PBell)
(Euphoric, this you?)

[Verse 1: Jdot Breezy]
E for effort, either go hard or go home
I'm mad as hell right now and I'm off f*ckin' X, gone
Get game from elders, you respect 'em, you gon' live long
But everything ain't factual, so, n*gga, don't get led wrong
Let's talk about it, I been geekin' so much, I can't sleep
We take catnaps, sleep for the dead, and, b*tch, I ain't deceased
Like what's defeat? You got a purpose, either with us or you up for eats
b*tch, it's purposeful and purposely impersonal, you f*ck with me
They came for me once, it turnеd out bad, let's bring them guns out
Done been a problеm, up block pressure, make you bring them funds out
I run with killers who don't stop hittin' until it run out
He 'bout his issue, typin' on Twitter, we chalk your son out
I ain't tryna talk with n*ggas, A-N-T-I
Social what I am, my head low, but keep my eyes wide
Ears always open, slippers count, I won't be that guy
Who fall victim to that pistol, n*gga, so I keep mine
Straight out that North, but buried my heart on the Eastside
We deploy the issue, my n*ggas gon' let that heat fly
Got one chance, pus*y n*gga, ain't no three times
Think twice before you roll them dice 'cause it's no rewind
[Chorus: Jdot Breezy]
Tell 'em bring it on then, I just mix the pain with meds
Voices in my head, the talk is critical, I'm on edge
Like f*ck it, I might tell my n*ggas get you, better not show your hand
For any n*gga try play on my mental, we gon' blow his ass
Stolies got too hot, so we in rentals, never show the tag
Get up close on n*ggas, talkin' so close like it's shoulder tag
Come through truckin' sh*t with micro, hit opps with no shoulder pads
Might call my n*gga Steeze, we caught your mans and then we stole his ass

[Verse 2: Lil Poppa]
If he catch the biggest half of me, I'ma promote his ass
Them boys done wasted so many racks on me, I already know they mad
Whenever I'm in the city, I'm out East, come and spend your last
I can't seem to get my mind off Leeke, he was livin' fast
Bro just copped the SRT, so please don't make him hit the gas
That's a half Glock, hit every block, b*tch come through shootin' fast
Come in first, 'cause if you two, you last
I'ma get you worst like I oughta do you bad
Why he always rap about how he on Percs? 'Cause I can afford the habit
Even though I'm on the third floor, I hear the door tappin'
Paranoia, I can't trust a soul, I think my bros at me
Another opp b*tch in my DM, they send their hoes at me
Them old n*ggas tryna act like they ain't fans, but at my shows rappin'

[Chorus: Jdot Breezy]
Tell 'em bring it on then, I just mix the pain with meds
Voices in my head, the talk is critical, I'm on edge
Like f*ck it, I might tell my n*ggas get you, better not show your hand
For any n*gga try play on my mental, we gon' blow his ass
Stolies got too hot, so we in rentals, never show the tag
Get up close on n*ggas, talkin' so close like it's shoulder tag
Come through truckin' sh*t with micro, hit opps with no shoulder pads
Might call my n*gga Steeze, we caught your mans and then we stole his ass