My n*gga Dead (Interlude) lyrics

[Intro]
f*ck you looking at, n*gga?
I'm still tryna find out, n*gga
Hold on, hold on, hold on, wait
Oh we got a problem here?
We got a problem here?
Holiday season

[Verse 1: Dave East]
I got the drop uptown, they said they robbing n*ggas (uptown)
You want your block, you can't hustle until you find them n*ggas (find them n*ggas)
Ignorant adolescence lackin' a father figure
Life been kind of rough, couldn't find him smiling in all his pictures (at all)
I can teach you how to drive, sit and park it with ya (c'mere)
We fought before we was hitting, sh*t, really off the liquor (bah, bah)
Let me tell you about my man, he made his maths double (double)
Like Biggie song, they shot his daughter in the calf muscle
A hundred percent, wasn't the type to half-hustle
Might die for free, it's guaranteed if a bag touch you (bag)
He was connected in Milwaukee, came back to Harlem
Five fifty, the same colour, his coffin (brown)
Packages was duct-taped, the whip had new car scent (new)
Paranoid he circled the block before he parked it (paranoid)
He usually would stop at the bodega 'fore he talked sh*t
A fiend peeped us early and told us, she saw a brick (word?)
Comfortable, we slid through in a grey Lacoste fit
Glock .40 on him, he been hearing n*ggas talk sh*t
Funny stares and whispers like every time he walk in
It's hard to see if sharks in the water, don't see no shark fin
n*ggas sit crowded at the lobby, he played the park bench
Seen a n*gga ratted, 10 years ago, they ain't talk since (not a word)
Homie tried to speak and he ignored him
They really don't be beefing, n*ggas be dying over boredom
He recognised another kid that usually shop on Fordham (BX)
Somethin' with this son, if he was dolo, he'd have called him
Shawty really come from nothing, survival's exhausting
Two options, go to court or get low in a coffin (get low)
Body language different, he feeling like n*ggas talking
Keep praying to Jesus, he feeling like n*ggas crossed him
Hard to find his homies, he feeling like n*ggas lost him
Connect said he would front him a brick, but it would cost him
His connections from the mid-west just had him flossing (shine)
Flexed on the plug, said he'd had enough, he could toss town
Spanish n*gga with him helped understand when they talking
Connect kept telling jokes, he said he was Kevin Hart's friend
Homie ain't come here for no comedy show
Catch a homie, get low, not even you mommy could now
No business, this sh*t was personal
He in the trap with a brick, thinking 'bout if he spit, what would he get for a verse or two
He done watched some close friends ride by in a hearse or two
His life a movie, death just f*cked it up like commercials do
He told his stupid n*gga, I could work with you
To kill a n*gga that you got love for, that sh*t hurt to do (it hurt)
f*ck the emotions, we got work to move
Still got his gun and his mask, he in a certain mood
When he was starving, you get murked for food
n*ggas caught him picking up his daughter, putting work at school
They was aiming at his head and hit her in the leg
Wasn't no money, it was just over some sh*t he said (watch your mouth)
The last time we spoke he said he'd try and get some bread
I got off of tour, came home, found out my n*gga dead
[Outro]
The sh*t we go through, you know
Can't make this sh*t up
Put the gun away, n*gga
Can we have one night with no fighting and nobody get shot?
Shut up b*tch
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