Will I Go Crazy (feat. Miss Dameanor) - Z-Ro

My mind just goes off and wonders, cause it ain’t stable

See I be fantasizing, bout putting food on the table

Cause in the ghetto my hood, prison is promised to us

Some of us let jail teach us, some let college do it

They think I’m nothing, cause I don’t get up and get a job

But I be trying the only thing I get, is getting hard

I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired, holla if you hear me

And you with me now, got my life right with God

You hatas come and get me now, fifty rounds

Is what I’mma be spraying, that’s on my mama God rest her soul

Nigga picture me playing, foes gon read and deed follow my lead

When I’m sober I can’t focus, pass that weed to me

And dedications all day long, seem like when I’m going

Through it my partnas stay gone, but its all gravy baby

Cause I want you to hate me, calico gon stay off safety

Murder motherfuckers, if they make me

Will I go crazy, I don’t know

The pain is fucking with me lately, but it don’t show

I can’t let it faze me, cause I can’t stop

I’m more than just a ghetto baby, cause I’mma reach the top

Like Pac, I’ll be the last motherfucker in this bitch freezing

And feel me money over niggas, be my pledge of allegiance

Whether I sang or I heat you, I’mma wait till I’m sinking

No dirt inside my credentials, bitches gon have they own reasons

This how we up in the game, I’m bout my paper fuck fame

The last day you gon see, we roll down feeling shame

This how the lessons gangstafied, paper chasing since youth

Bet not go squabbling for respect, to see who got the most juice

I been a witness to the struggle, days and spots have been missed

The devil huffing like a wolf, that’s why I’m building with bricks

I seen and heard plenty shit, from ghetto baby to woman

Its either keep your head above the water, or get swept under

Been a guerilla in the midst, this matching soldier be marching

Now valet and curb service, more sauce for handicap parking

When more days get brighter, my tribulations get lighter

More shalant about my life, now I’m a Southern street fighter

Don’t be telling me bout no riff-raff, I’m busta-free

All about my wealthy, don’t need nobody to fuck with me

I’mma keep my twelve gauge, the only company I need

Can’t forget about hydro, and a pint of codeine

Flipping to Austin from Houston, on a mission to make feddy

Either stop fucking with some of my people, cause they wasn’t ready

But the whole wide world, its just me and my dreams

And anybody roll Glock, is gon be seeing my beam

Went from dirt packs to platinum, watch the jealous one hating

To see who’s real from the fake, and thank the Lord what I make

Hard times brought tears, misery if you last

Realize I wasn’t gon be shit, if I didn’t get off my ass

For the ones who was there, anticipated my fall

I cry still on death field, but I can ball and stood tall

Now Miss Dameanor live lavage, went from broke to hood rich

Plan to live to the fullest, then I’m up outta this bitch