At Close Range - Bodega Bamz

I got a lot of heart with this bulldog

Davey Boy Smith I call it, begging for a shot

We called it, this Tanboy shit

All real from the concrete, let a don speak

I tried to be low with that low piece

Then my pockets got low like a slow leak

I wanna die fast, not slowly

I wanna sip young, not Olde E

I got a cousin named Nivay, born in Hell

Nobody told me to rap ‘cause I was born to sell

I’m telling true stories in the pen house

You on a project roof telling tall tales

AD doing ten years

Real papis cry blood, never tears

Real papis look around, never stare

Real papis say the truth, never dare

My cousin died in jail of the AIDS

Somebody knew, sleeping in his sell every day

No, he wasn’t gay, he just loved the vein

He restin' in a million dollar grave in Saint Rays right now

My baby mother bitching, want me tied down

But I don’t give a fuck, even when we lie down

Had to separate to see who on my side now

All this bullshit make me wanna use the cal

I got 20/20 under both eyebrows

On my Makaveli shit, are you still down?

On my 2Pac shit, are you still down?

Picture me not moving up, are you still down?

Most niggas got a problem with me

How the fuck you s’posed to deal if your hands shake?

I rolled the dice like Morgan till the under take, yeah

I wish to God when I sleep, I’ll be wide awake

Shotty by my bed, sleeping with my vest on

Holy bible open, praying to the Lord

If I die today, I’m taking a couple with me

I’m taking a couple with me

Shotty by my bed, sleeping with my vest on

Holy bible open, praying to the Lord

If I die today, I’m taking a couple with me

I’m taking a couple with me