M.P.R.

(Produced by Otavi Locke)

[Hook x8]
I gotta get it, money, power, respect, nigga

[Verse]
Opiates seeping through my pores while I'm flooring it
No stash box for the Glock, my lap where I'm storing it
Used to move weight through the country but now we touring it
Activis drought, but still I'm pouring it
Had a hunnit fifty pints tucked in the back of ya baby mother brib
You can't compare me to nothing, I'm on some other shit
You meet the bitch and you cuff her, that Danny Glover shit
We pop some pills then we fucking, that xanny lover shit
I play the block with my youngins, they on that thirsty shit
But cool, calm, and collected, tucking them thirty clips
Do what I say, they just waiting to twerk them dirty sticks
My fit cost me two thousand, but got on dirty kicks
Fuck all that birdy shit, nigga, I got like four jacks
And even when it's a shaky day, they make four racks
In highschool me and Nox was trapping out four acts
And even then it was nothing to let that four clap
But now I'm tryna get my act together
In the booth now, tryna get my raps together
But it's obvious that niggas gotta pack berettas
Cause these fuck niggas like to roll in packs together
But they don't know, a nigga like me been ready to die
I don't give a fuck, higher than Jesus, ready to fly
'Lotta niggas wanna put they hands on me, but never tried
Cause a nigga know, they put they hands on me they gon' fry

[Hook x8]
I gotta get it, money, power, respect, nigga