"Certain Things" lyrics

Certain things you don't talk about, get ready

Take this bread, stack it, try not to get your head blasted
Keep your circle small, avoid the fed rackets
My man's high inside his house with like ten ratchets
No social media, that's who I send that shit
I'm on the phone with the bae, I'm like send that shit
Bro's old celly owns a block, I'm about to rent that shit
You can't hate on a man for putting food out
When you begging for a plate and your bitch is putting you out
And your op's got a new house, new car, and there you are
About to hit the block mad, trying to do more
But he who does the most, soon becomes a ghost
And the deadly situations help you figure out who you are
You told went home, came back on a new charge
They gon' stab you, you go to Christian service or Jum'ah
Caught you in the sally port, said they owed you a few more
Sixty days adseg, majors told you to cool off
Told my tree plug I wish you grew more
He said I grew plenty, but I ain't fucking with anybody who move raw
People hating bro, that's just a rumor
I swear I don't fuck with that white girl, like Dr. Umar

In this life there's certain things you don't talk about
Just know the money's what it's all about
Cause over here, they walk em down and chalk em out
Certain things you don't talk about
So keep your fucking mouth shut homie
I gotta know, or you gotta go
Can you keep your mouth shut for me?
I gotta know, or you gotta go

Now if you get locked up, don't talk to jailhouse rodents
They use your words as a get out token
He got found dead with his mouth open
Cause when he got round feds, he was outspoken
You don't know nothing about motion
You ain't have coke in the drought, or folks in the south
You was close to the couch, sitting broke in your house
Then you backdoored your man and broke in his house
Y'all corny as shit, 40 and sick
You would think y'all would switch when maturity hit
Even when I was poor, I was morally rich
Loyalty is at the top of my priority list
See my story is lit, it's based off real life
You rap, and you rat, got a deal twice
Huh, shout out to my real rights
That build stripes from killing all the grass snakes and field mice
As far as rapping, I'm still nice
I'm talking about re-rapping bricks
That's my real vice, get you killed for a lil price
A deal price, my shooters so young that they steal bikes

Cause this life is certain things you don't talk about
Just know the money's what it's all about
Cause over here, they walk em down and chalk em out
Certain things you don't talk about
So keep your fucking mouth shut homie
I gotta know, or you gotta go
Can you keep your mouth shut for me?