Just Can’t Win

Flippin' pies like Famiglia
Rockin' Polo insignia
Wearin' fly kicks to bed chicks
Is like my signature
We're never miniature respect the methods I administer
Right angle pop shots bust perpendicular
Street minister I'm half righteous, half-sinister
Call my gun Mister Cee cause it's the finisher
Bronze bags that hold red and green stripes obscene Nikes and Lo shit
That's all I rock - except the 4/5th
Dip like a mannequin
From seven-deuce and Madison
I really do the shit ya'll niggas do when you imaginin'
Analyze my resume son
There's no comparison
Fine foods, nice shirts, specialty works
Makin' more hand-to-hand sales than toll booth clerks
Writin' raps without quirks, the energy that still lurks
In the city that was known historically for giving merks
Fuck the hand outs, I create my own perks
Peace to niggas buying breakfast 'cause they dishing desserts
Fake smiles mask emptiness, desolate smirks
You usually see them painted on the face of derelict jerks
That being said you won't see none of those next to me
Real talk, I'm a G, keep my team sucker-free
If you go that route, you owe yourself an apology
Run with this jewel: consistency's the best policy
Fuck jacking styles nigga, sample my biography
My life barely started, fam so it doesn't bother me
Plus I'm busy checking breasts
Queens street mamography
Fast forward next scene, hardcore pornography
I love it when they deep throat tubes like an endoscopy
Living life in hypocrisy is an atrocity
What can I do for you depends on what you got for me
I show you how to make a paper plant when you chop a tree
I'm out creating win-win situations
But got toast to settle confrontations, complications
My mind's filled with blueprints and safe combinations
I'm going to the grave with unrepeated conversations
My raps pierce flesh then replenish lacerations
I'll hurt you then heal you
Bag you then deal you
Purchase you back and give you away
Just to let ya'll know ain't no fucking with Mey
Bad bangin' bustin' bitches love to blow on my harmonica
My niggas smoke heavy, lighting candles like it's Hannukah
Minus the yarmulke, the mercury in the thermometer
Couldn't measure the heat my niggas holdin' just to honor the
Code of the street, all of my fleet
Is what I taught ya
If I'm ever under pressure they should never be shook
Snatch a bar out my symphony then heat it up and cook
If you could read between the lines then I could write you a book
Whole-hearted half human with the mind of a crook
Sometime I stare at my picture and go blind when I look
Blackout moves my mind, travel to another time
Free the slaves, hit they masters with a nine of a kind
Then revise the laws that made being black like a crime
Snap out my dream, walk back into reality
It's hard being real in a world that's a fallacy
I nicknamed this rap game felatio galaxy
I been slapping niggas in the face when they challenge me
Shake 'em down, smack 'em up, game 'em for they salary
My pen is positive, it burns more than a calorie
Been painting pictures, I could battle with a gallery
Yo, yo
And a picture's worth a thousand words
I seen a thousand herbs rap about a thousand birds
Frontin' fabricators got clown that embrace 'em
But when they sit down with real Gs they can't face 'em
My heart's racing and my brain's doing sit-ups
Enjoy life, still live trife stacking my biducks
Silk squares over my beard, forever plidush