Famiglia - Nyck Caution, Meechy Darko

Yeah, my famiglia real G’s so you never hear 'em

They just go about their business, never leave a witness

Y’all would rather post it on the 'Gram to maintain an image

Shit is ridiculous

I’m so appalled, this is no one’s fault, but everybody’s responsible

They all shitted on the kid when he had a little dream

But they love him when he’s doin' the impossible

You dudes is comical

Ayy, yeah

Ayy, ayy, yeah

Get that motherfucker (Yeah)

Yeah

My brother told me «Go easy on those guys» (Guys)

They gon' have it harder when they see the kiddo rise (See the kiddo rise)

Beatrix, I’m gaugin' out they eyes (Eyes)

Every time these verses are reprised (Yeah)

Kill 'em with success and they’ll never have a clue to how they died (Died,

died)

Think about it

You ain’t really mad at me, you bitches mad at yourself

That shit is bad for your health

But fuck it (Fuck it, go and drag 'em to Hell)

You a selfish motherfucker, only pass to yourself (Only pass to yourself)

Maybe I should tone it down a little, ask for some help (I should ask for some

help)

But there’s two types of people in this world (Yeah)

Those who gotta ask (Ask), and those who make it happen themself

And I refuse to be a bitch like you, I’m not a bit like you

I’ve been stabbed in the back so many times that it slip right through

Life’s a bitch, but every dog has his day (Yeah)

Wait until that bitch bite you

Yeah, my famiglia real G’s so you never hear 'em

'Cause they be low as fuck, try me, come and test your luck

I be tryna chill, but the problems always level up

Feel like Meadow’s dad, venting to a memo pad

When it ends, does it really all cut to black?

'Cause if it does I hope the afterlife will cut us slack (Slack)

I’ve been to Hell and back (Back)

Already walking dead (Dead)

Feel like a motherfuckin' zombie

So much pussy I’m denying bitches

They get with us, then they lie with us

Big stone, wide eyes see my diamonds glisten

Hustle harder than Tracy Morgan in the '90s, nigga

Gutter grimy like a '90s nigga

Doggystyle, the right position

Kiss the girls, make 'em cry

Tellin' more lies than a politician

Got the gas with me in the Trump Towers

Burn the shit down if the nigga win it

Only sold my soul 'cause I tried to flip it, huh

The pussy mine, use my tongue to write initial, huh

I take your flow, diss you with it, I ain’t fuckin' with it

Say «Mister, mister, please give me some of that, I need a fixin'»

We get high as fuck, then we fight and fuck

It’s like Guns N' Roses with the Twisted Sister

Eyes dilated 'cause this 'cid is vicious

Got a queen kissin' on my sex pistol

I’m in the Gucci, Snoopy, fully lucid, death grippin'

Drunk drivin', swervin' left with it

Feel like the only rapper who can match his magic madness is probably Mathers

Bipolar disorder, man, I might be manic

I battle myself for practice, survival tactics, I adapt it

I asked God to show my way, but map, He never handed

Satan’s guestlist

Fuckin' Rihanna in Bahamas top of my checklist

Turquoise settin' blood diamonds

Die for my necklace

Only-child syndrome, selfish

Trapped in my mind, doin' a sentence

Shit, somebody help him (Help him, please, help him, help him)

Shit, somebody help him (Help him, please)