Prop Joe lyrics

Huh
On god
Yeah

[Verse]
Jump out the car and walk a n*gga down
I'll kill you for a half a pound
Shoot your block spin back around
Jump out the car then pat 'em down
I really played the backfield
Don't care about a rap deal
Drug problems on my block, Papi try [?]
My plug playin' funny games, he bet' not play no money games
This .45 like a arrow, shoot this b*tch like it's The Hunger Games
The drac' make 'em do the running man
I used to fall asleep with hunger pangs
Stopped selling dope didn't all that change
I really put up for my gang
The city treat me like a Villain
b*tch bet' not play cause I'll kill 'em
Face seen me walk n*ggas down
Pull it out while im walking through the crowd
I let it off that b*tch go fah, fah-fah-fah
I can f*ck up auntie blender, she say: "Papi, you that n*gga"
These n*ggas know my body different
I'm on that sh*t I'm prolly trippin'
Ain't nun but Carti's for the vision
n*gga I'll rob you with your sister
I really don't give a damn
This a Glock, it won't jam
They tryna do it for the gram, I'm gon' do it with the grams
I'm Patrick [?] with the slang
They called me Rambo in the can
I cut your face up with a can and pass the drain off to my man
I'm too sticky with this sh*t, Ion try to be mixy with these n*ggas
I sold dope and shot n*ggas, I'm a real block n*gga
I act just like my pops n*gga, my wrist inside the pot n*gga
He got a Glock, my Glock bigger, I let off shots way quicker
I don't f*ck with you n*ggas, what you wanna do n*gga
Cause when the last opp tried, got shot five times
Dumbass damn near died, stupid ass paralyzed
We stand on business 'bout the guys
These n*ggas fake they act like props
Jump out the car and get my man, broad daylight we open fire
They talking crazy on the live, don't even know he finna die
They like: "Pap just make songs"
I get you killed, my paper long
I'm really tryna be a rapper, but I can't kick it with these rappers
I f*ck around and rob a rapper, then go sell the product after
Im a no good dirty bast*rd
In the streets i got my masters
I don't got fake dope stories, I don't got fake drill stories
I got them real deal stories, them "Pap, you gotta chill" stories
Going out like I'm Marlo
Run my block like I'm Marlo
Get you shot like I'm Marlo
Serve straight drop like I'm Marlo
I robbed the spot like I'm Marlo
These n*ggas act like Proposition Joe
[?] act like he want [?]
Reach for my hip, don't gotta find the pole
[Outro: Excerpt from "The Wire"]
Proposition Joe: My nephew
Boy was always a disappointment
But I treated you like a son
Marlo Stanfield: I wasn't made to play the son
Proposition Joe: But my supply - the good dope?
Marlo Stanfield: The Greeks, they cool with it
Proposition Joe: Proposition, then
I just step out the way
You never hear from me again
I just disappear
Marlo Stanfield: Joe, you'd be up into mischief in no time
Truth is, you wouldn't be able to change up any more than me
Close your eyes
It won't hurt none
There, now
Joe, relax
Breathe easy