cradle

Fate ain’t nothing to play with,leave it lone,the hand that rocks the cradle the beam is on, Be careful, with ya inches, u know they’ll take a mile,ya face showing ya guilt,it don’t take a trial,these niggas cooked & they fried, spicy zesty niggas trying kick it like Ronaldo & Messi, these metaverse, the streams,still in the hood with the web key,the data chip got switch,when I spread sheets, tag toes halos and up where ya head be,like fried foods and red meat, on your leg week, do u listen as much as speak, when u meet the Feds, u know its either ur maker or ur honor, try’n 2 get that 8, upgrade some spaces from that Honda, headliners saddle suede, eating like chef prepared it,passed it to the maid,a day a prayer the day, when they pay up,u down or way up, sometimes niccahs disgust me,like a Ray*sus, that’s why I need a guard and gate, n 40 acres, nick irving right through the peep hole, delacroce n decicco, perfect storm, verse hot and the beat cold, I bet you regret it, niccah Pete rose, get dope fiend or D-Bo, keep a cutlass supreme that’s the G code, G -shock n seiko, till the spot hotter then Waco, and it’s paid for,knock on the grey door,one three that’s the gate code, fears mental, face yours, & success is simple,that’s when the hate grows, keep a thankful position,or eat a frank,a bit coin, don’t need a bank, I ain’t ask your opinion, don’t believe ya rank, operate with no limits like master P, n tanks, I believe you can fly. 762s or 223 until the beat is deceased