Текст песни CIA - Freddie Gibbs

Let's not waste no motherfuckin' time (aw, yeah)
Check, check (yeah, yeah)
Mic' check, check, check
You know what I'm sayin'? This type of shit, bitch
Mic' check, check, check (yeah)
I put a bow tie on and hard bottoms on for a ho

Bitch, run me my check, check, check, uh (yeah)
Go pick the bitch up
Yeah, uh, mic' check, check, check
The pussy good, the drink was good
Bitch, I need the check, check, check
Yeah, uh, yeah

I did this album off pages ripped out my diary
Confessions and hard lessons, killers confide in me (yeah, yeah)
I hit up Deuce around D'USSÉ and 'migo slide with me (yeah)
Need my money back, you can't never YK Osiris me (hahaha)
Did it all, extortions to the bribery (yeah)
Banned from Instagram, still makin' millions, they can't silence me (nah)
Ex had set me up, her brother robbed me 'round 2003 (bitch)
Tryna get some pussy bumpin' Jagged Edge, "I Gotta Be"

I'm tryna be too legit to quit, just hit a lick and served two in a split (yeah)
Four ways, whole things, no way I die of old age
Don't stunt around your homies 'less them niggas'll make they own lane
And if they can't, they knock you out the box, man, it's a cold game
Shortage on the dope, now this fetty fundin' the campaign
Servin' Big Rabbit rosé, Big Rabbit champagne
Freshmen cover, everybody had they deal except for Kane
Ashamed 'cause I still sell crack and I'm in the rap game

Afraid 'cause I still sell crack and I'm in the rap game
Shot him, but that fuck nigga made it, I'm on my last days
Youngins doin' murder for clout and they post it on they page
CIA, they gave us crack, Instagram, and AIDS

Brooklyn introduced me to the smack, poison in they veins
Sent it to the West side of the 'Raq, Lord, run my chains
Feel like if we link up and squash the beef, it won't be the same (it ain't gon' be the same, nigga)
Shoutout Will Gates, man, folks and them gave me hella game (yeah, yeah, hella game)
Kane Train smokin' (smokin', yeah)
Remember them nights when I was broke, I cried on Erica's shoulder and now my tears frozen

Man, I'm just bein' open
When I made "Fuckin' Up the Count," ain't had no Audemars yet, I was rappin' and hopin' (yeah)
And if this shit was my last album, then I went out the coldest
If this shit was my last album, at least I rap with Otis
Al took me straight to the Grammys, I wasn't expectin' that (nah)
Now if they ask you if you from Gary, they got respect for that (they got respect for that)

Afraid 'cause I still sell crack and I'm in the rap game
Shot him, but that fuck nigga made it, I'm on my last days
Youngins doin' murder for clout and they post it on they page
CIA, they gave us crack, Instagram, and AIDS (yeah, yeah)
Afraid 'cause these devils done infiltrated the rap game
Feel like spendin' time with my children, I'm on my last days (yeah)
Youngins doin' murder for clout and they post it on they page
CIA, they gave us crack, Instagram, and AIDS

Check, check (yeah, uh)
Mic' check, check, check (don't let that clout fuck you up, nigga)
Bitch, mic' check, check, check
Uh, bitch, run me my check, check, check, uh, yeah
Yeah, yeah, uh, mic' check, check, check, bitch
Biggest daily blows to the community, nigga

Crack, AIDS, and Instagram, nigga
CIA
CIA, nigga
Crack, Instagram, and AIDS
Crack, Instagram, and AIDS, man
That's, that's a song
That's what they did to us, man
CIA
That's what we gon' call this ho, "CIA"