Lyrics Btw - Skeet Taste

Money hungry Skeet
The street Bible, I be preaching to the streets
No bullshit, know what I'm talking about?
Buddah Bless this beat

Apply the pressure, what ain't solid it's gonna crumble
Death before dishonor, pray I don't die before my mama
My daughter staying in the hotel and her daddy sell narcotics
My baby mama violent so I don't like being around her

Too many skeletons in my closet, gotta find somewhere to fight them
Like how I'd split that guard shit with them devils all inside them
I don't think the way I act; I had to adapt to my environment
The type of shit I rap bring the gangsters outta retirement

I chase sacks like a defensive lineman
Had to reach between the crevices and cracks just to find them
I tell them "I got swag", they tell me to define it
I say swag means "I'm somewhere always grinding"

Parables from the street Bible, savages added street walking
Streets talking,
News travelled about some cats called Skeet at the middle school
I murdered any dude I caught beatboxing between class
Piss on both sides of the mattress, I grew up kinda ratchet

Born to lose, built to win
If Jesus died for our sins, why them dudes in the pen?
Back against the wall, the feds like "here we go again"
Got a chance to beat the arms, ain't no way I ain't gonna win

Born to lose, built to win
If Jesus died for our sins, why them dudes in the pen?
Back against the wall, the feds like "here we go again"
All I need is a chance, ain't no way I ain't gonna win

Before I leave the house, I pray I make it back home
Poopy say "Daddy, I'm a thot", that little nigga think he grown
I sell rocks while I'm rolling; truth be told, I'm a rolling stone
Don't see Brooklyn and Banana, letting the kids say I'm wrong
I just hate to be in tears but she don't let me take them home
Aisha keep scratching up my face so I keep breaking that bitch phone
Sierra say I'm wrong, Porsche still tryna make it home

Tamera can put her pride aside so I hate that song
When i got shot Keana kept me strong, she gotta make the song
Cyclops, ex man
X-File, flesh crawl

Westside, West Nile
Skin like a reptile
If Jesus is God's only son, I gotta be his stepchild
Gangsters move in silence, Ion even mumble under my breath, dawg