Nothin' - Tech N9ne, Big Scoob, Young Mess

I used to press my Dickies with Sta-Flo

Sold pieces for my reli chasin' peso

Now they want me with nothin' cause I let my pay show

So I hop inside of my Mercedes and let the bass go

On you hatin' ass niggas, I deserve everything I get, a creatin' cash getter

I ain’t puttin the 2 on the 10 I’m makin' vast figures

You fags bitter mad wanna be fakin' class with us

How they thinkin' they gonna come and conquer us?

Little Mini Cooper hatin' on a monster truck

Ponder such, I’ll have you up in yonder stuck

Not a nare not a breath a stutter that conjure a

Nothin', nathin', the ruger’s penetration

Inside of ya head it was soundin' like it’s bassin'

Boom bing bang on you haters in the game

Strange lane takin' aim ain’t a damn thang sane

I get it in, want some drama?

Well I can fit it in

We can make it so you’re no longer a citizen

Suction, from beneath you we just a little dust’n

All because I’m bringin' the bucks in

They wanna leave me with nothin' (Uh-uh)

But they ain’t talkin 'bout nothin' (Uh-uh)

So I ain’t trippin' on nothin' (Uh-uh)

They come to get me I’m bustin' (Uh-huh)

They wanna leave me with nothin' (Uh-uh)

But they ain’t talkin 'bout nothin' (Uh-uh)

So I ain’t trippin' on nothin' (Uh-uh)

They come to get me I’m bustin', bustin' (Uh-huh)

On the block it was hot to not to run from the cops

I used to cop and used to chop and dump my rocks at Ms. Scott’s

And on the late night at Ms. White’s I’m fuckin with Will

We used to play fight then one night we came up with Vill

Young thugs dump drugs nigga hungry for meals

Young thugs jumped blood nigga itchin' for kills

Shit was real in the field man this shit was too real

Lost my homies to this shit man this shit is for real

But nigga nowdays the streets they go hard on the hustla

All these pussy niggas rattin' so us real niggas suffer

Not plentiful for me no more it’s hoes in the game

Since I smell when paper foldin' man I’m rollin' with Strange

Pour some whiskey party with me tell the Feds if they miss me

They ain’t comin' for me now then nigga bet they don’t get me

So all you muthafuckin sucka niggas wishin' me gone

Big homie Strange Music Resurrection I’m home

All I do is sell dope and nigga talk bricks

Talk with bananas and tote clips

Ride around and smoke kush with the yurner on me

Drink them champagne bottles with the flower on 'em

All that talkin' loud, will get a nigga a hit

You see them cherry red chucks?

Yeah I’m with the shit

Anyway I bounce out man I hit 'em up

And I’ll lock up with you we could get 'em up

I still wear a gold grill 10 across the bottom

They call me 19−5 cause a nigga got 'em

Click-Clack nigga yanka get yanked on

There’s been alotta hatin' nigga since I came home

Anything a nigga do homie it’s federal

And come with football numbers in the level 4

They wanna bee a nigga dead man but nathin'

Tech fuck them muthafuckaz they could keep hatin'