Built for This (feat. Freddie Gibbs & Streetlife)

Lyrics

Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon
 They coming for me, time is money no Audemar
 See bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R
 No foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars
 The game is ours, let's keep it funky who said he was
 Like Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce
 If y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost
 Already cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em
 Plus anybody that saying no, I'm taking numbers
 I'm taking names, I'll take your chain take this hunger
 Pain, pain, pain
 Then you feel the thunder and rain I don't talk it like the rainbow
 I get it done and the game y'all
 Do me a favor, don't ever play with my ball
 Never been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all
 You watching lame but look I'm taking the charge
 Going hard will get you two shots now I'm facing the charge
 Fire up the la let's go take a ride
 They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide
 But if you're built for this shit then you might survive
 Guess I'll see you when you wake up on the other side
 Sort of like Mike at the United Center
 Madison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas
 Lil' nigga your raps ain't no fire, that shit'll collapse so don't try
 I scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie
 That no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck
 I'm pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts
 For em took away in cuffs I'd rather lay up in the dust
 Feel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain't enough
 Twist it up
 Life is a blunt and the world is my ash tray
 I got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway
 And I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay
 Ain't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day
 As I can recollect, praying to God this dope'll stretch
 Turn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X
 Chilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet
 I'll take it into Heaven, you couldn't buy me that, remind me that
 It's the world's worst, quick to snatch your man purse
 And leave your body head first in the stretched hearse
 Murder she wrote, I'm known to spit a killer verse
 And leave a player blood spilling on his linen shirt
 You can Google my name but you ain't gotta search
 I'm right here in the streets, I'm putting in work
 Go ahead, fuck around and get your feelings hurt
 Or, you can get carried outta your local church
 I'm from the old school, I do my own dirt
 Mama raised no fool, I did my own work
 Keep your wifey close, she's a little flirt
 I knew her since '03, I hit the bitch first
 I'm the reason why your baby mama water burst
 I've been marvelous since birth, you can ask my Earth
 It's not a problem to show you how the shotty work
 I put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:24
Key
1
Tempo
160 BPM

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