"I Ain't Mad At Ya" lyrics
And I hate fuck niggas
Even though I have some fuck niggas in my family
Got a lot of them motherfuckers
And if you don't wanna be no fuck nigga
Don't be nan'
I do it for the family
Look up in the sky, I can see the stars
Drop down, restaurant around my arm, the world is ours
Cracked the code and picked the pieces up, it's a collage
Matchin' Rolls, we'll send the reaper up to look at God
I'm the blueprint
Turned pennies into millions on my own, so why the fuck I need to hear your two cents
It's enough money around this bitch, the crew rich
Roxies and them basketballs, not the ones you hoop with
I got steppers sendin' molly, ain't no call at all
Gettin' rich 'til I retire, I'm too great for fallin' off
Two specs for tailgatin' like we racin' car to car
Used to starve, now we buy up all the Dracs and Audemars
Cut them niggas out your circle, I ain't mad at you (I ain't mad at you)
Went and got your own bag, bro, I ain't mad at you (Bro, I ain't mad at you)
Got your cake in that lil' town, I ain't mad at you (Fuck with you)
Real boss, the city mine, that's why they mad at me (For real)
Oh, you finessin'? I ain't mad at that
Get the 'bows locally and still could charge a little extra when it's Cali stamped
Turn the streets to my profession, just imagine that
Ran them laps and I had an asthma attack for all them bags and racks
Got a kitchen full of beakers, skizzy look like pizzas
Stack it up like Pringles, get the syrup, pints and liters
Made that first million, I was grateful, nice to meet you
Got two choppers by the speakers, knock the cheese out your fajita
I was turnt when I was half as blessed
Keep a 30 in my belt, that's how we had to dress
Talk to that paper in my sleep, think the bag possessed
What about the cars and all this jewelry, nigga?
I told 'em pray, that's how you manifest
Thinkin' back, I been let down, seen 'em do some time
Then come home and fuck with everybody except who held 'em down
Mama told me see a snake swimmin', let 'em drown
Grindin' hard, got ten million for my kids set aside
Cut them niggas out your circle, I ain't mad at you (I ain't mad at you)
Went and got your own bag, bro, I ain't mad at you (Bro, I ain't mad at you)
Got your cake in that lil' town, I ain't mad at you (Fuck with you)
Real boss, the city mine, that's why they mad at me (For real)
Even though I have some fuck niggas in my family
Got a lot of them motherfuckers
And if you don't wanna be no fuck nigga
Don't be nan'
I do it for the family
Look up in the sky, I can see the stars
Drop down, restaurant around my arm, the world is ours
Cracked the code and picked the pieces up, it's a collage
Matchin' Rolls, we'll send the reaper up to look at God
I'm the blueprint
Turned pennies into millions on my own, so why the fuck I need to hear your two cents
It's enough money around this bitch, the crew rich
Roxies and them basketballs, not the ones you hoop with
I got steppers sendin' molly, ain't no call at all
Gettin' rich 'til I retire, I'm too great for fallin' off
Two specs for tailgatin' like we racin' car to car
Used to starve, now we buy up all the Dracs and Audemars
Cut them niggas out your circle, I ain't mad at you (I ain't mad at you)
Went and got your own bag, bro, I ain't mad at you (Bro, I ain't mad at you)
Got your cake in that lil' town, I ain't mad at you (Fuck with you)
Real boss, the city mine, that's why they mad at me (For real)
Oh, you finessin'? I ain't mad at that
Get the 'bows locally and still could charge a little extra when it's Cali stamped
Turn the streets to my profession, just imagine that
Ran them laps and I had an asthma attack for all them bags and racks
Got a kitchen full of beakers, skizzy look like pizzas
Stack it up like Pringles, get the syrup, pints and liters
Made that first million, I was grateful, nice to meet you
Got two choppers by the speakers, knock the cheese out your fajita
I was turnt when I was half as blessed
Keep a 30 in my belt, that's how we had to dress
Talk to that paper in my sleep, think the bag possessed
What about the cars and all this jewelry, nigga?
I told 'em pray, that's how you manifest
Thinkin' back, I been let down, seen 'em do some time
Then come home and fuck with everybody except who held 'em down
Mama told me see a snake swimmin', let 'em drown
Grindin' hard, got ten million for my kids set aside
Cut them niggas out your circle, I ain't mad at you (I ain't mad at you)
Went and got your own bag, bro, I ain't mad at you (Bro, I ain't mad at you)
Got your cake in that lil' town, I ain't mad at you (Fuck with you)
Real boss, the city mine, that's why they mad at me (For real)
Writer(s): Chivez Smith, Brian Wolf, Henning Grueschow
