Betta Watch Me - C-Murder, Popeye

Wake up-wake-up-wake up

Man I hit the set, and them boys be getting ghost

Ya know, they spooking but it’s cool

I’m bout to wake 'em up

You better watch me, cause I’m doing bad

Plus I’m hurting, I gotta get weed

Now where them goods at, playboy give me that

And get them goods wrapped, I’ll make you lean back

See my clock is on need fo', I’m 'ready tweeking

I can’t be sitting up here hurting, all weekend

I keep on falling off, at the worst times

And if I’m stuck it ain’t my fault, I’m gon reverse mines

My pain I’ma nourish mines, cause I’m sick with it

Now where them ballers at, I’m looking for that big ticket

Ten minutes from losing it, one day from locked up

The way I’m living, sooner or later I’m gon be boxed up

Nobody trusting me, they know how I’m coming

I hit the block, and I swear I see them cowards running

Putting they stash up, peeping out they windows

Now why they tripping, I’m the exact opposite of 5−0

It’s called survival, of the fittest

I can’t help it cause I’m with it, and you ain’t with it

I come to get it, yeah I did it I did that

I can’t take that back, so beat your feet back

All y’all gon remember me, cause me ain’t no joke

Me do what me does, cause ain’t no being broke

I was raised in this, I ain’t ask for this

I tried changing my life, and now it’s back to this

Somebody pray for me, the Lord is testing me

But them people, they gon have problems arresting me

Now my lungs hurting, need that black vest

And I feel like, jacking one of these rappers

Was 14 with the felons, while y’all did the misdemeanors

Niggas my age, was pushing Beamers

Niggas that sprayed, while using Ninas

AK’s and SK’s, your chest cave

Your neck shaved, and your waves turn to still water

Hood on fire, racks of money steal daughters

Kill fathers, pop a seed in your mama

This routine, and you pussies thought you knew Fiend

I’m from a city, where ery’thing crooked

Where the right kind of money, meant the judge overlook it

And I’m screwed up, I ain’t talking Swishahouse

'Fore I learned to tie my shoes up, I was burning crews up

My Ward verse your Ward, put them 22's up

These 26's, make you put them 22's up

This Mack-90 mean, I ain’t giving you fuck

But bullets, in that shiny new truck

What you know about, fighting for five days

Hanging niggas upside down, coming at you sideways

A crooked H, going 67−5

And I add them three quarters for the ride, plus I’m high

I got this world in the tip of my pistol, shining like crystal on my waist

Shadow ducking the barell, reflecting off in his face

He’s below his lace, so my tape’s no longer lead

Stomp in the Expedition, my mission was made to speed

Blazing up the weed, tried my tint’s and armored lint

Checking up on my schedule, for all the Benz I spent

Get the hustling broad, put the one out of socket

Having enough to catch life, in all four of my pockets

You understand, and click your hand late

It’s time to cope for what you never ate, guts and nuts on the dinner plate

Love is hate, kissing ass by wetting vocals

Hustling on the streets, when it’s hotter than Akapolko