Dirty’s Pain

Thinking where to start this, in the bricks for years
Home is where the heart is
On my knees for days, stressing and i need to pray
Let the devil know i'll never be a target
Pray to that, sinning but i pray salah
If you ever done me dirty you can't take it back
Pissed i lost 80 bags, but i'll know i'll make it back
Tried to pay for my brothers bell, i don't pay for tax
Gliding on my comrades
I'd rather die with them, i ain't sliding out in combat
Fuck these little labels and there dirty little contracts
Fuck the word brother, just muma in my contacts
G, G, for life i'm go getting brothers talk bad
Money quite like my phone settings
If it weren't for my only son, i'd be the best man in my own wedding
I got love for you, doesn't mean i trust man
100 pellets in my shotty we don't bust blanks
What's a burner no cartridge?
What's a label no artist?
What's Aladdin no carpet?
Nada
My brother's mad busy but he knows the plan
He don't roll my shows but he'll roll to bang
Its only love i show to fans
Stop complaining, how you broke brother, grab a own slang
Free my brothers riding life sentences
I don't know much about percentages
(i don't know shit)
But i know this industry's fake blud
(how much of it?)
Like 95 percent of it
On my meek mill feeling to expose yah
Or even better, stick you up like a poster
These man impostor's, dirty as a vulture
They do it for the money not the culture
Is that real
I'm in the flats still
Mums still a g, always show me her back heels
You don't know how that feels
I've been on the roads, getting new comers
Your nothing on the road but a new comer
Paper chasing that's for certain
Roll with burners that a German, if you want me then it's curtains
I got pain that i'm firming, hella bitches that i'm curving
And i'll still rather sign to my son before virgin
It's dirty