Runaway Love

TwentyThree

Dec 22

Thursday

~Demario

Today didnt really consist of much since Christmas was in 3 days and shit's been wild, opps been quiet so some shit was bound to happen soon, one thing with this drug shit never get comfortable. Kash, Sean, and I was at the studio really trying to figure some shit out.

"man say" sean said as he came from the booth

"talk to me" kash said as he sat back in the chair

"i wanna take this music shit serious, this drug shit aint for me no more. ion want my lil nigga to think this shit was coo to do cause this shit got hella consequences." sean stated, lil bro was the baby out of the group growing up way before anything

"ay say go for dat shit ima fuck with u every step" i told him as i went to the computer

"i say drop some shit gang" kash said gassing

"yall think so" sean questioned, hell yeah he was a hard ass nigga to be 18

"drop it" i said as i shrugged my shoulders

"bet" sean said as he grabbed his phone and went to files

we really strived for greatness for sean, we wanted him to do better than we did since he always looked up to us in general, he was gon blow, moments later a sound had made through seans phone indicating he dropped it

"play et shit foe" kash said as sean played it

Got a drop on this flexin' nigga, he from Tennessee (what?)
I had a thot she be with the shits, she told me where he be (where he at?)
I said, "Fo' sho', baby, let me know if you wanna eat"
She like, "Sean you already know, just put your girl on fleek" (that's it)
I'm like cool, I can do that boo
What you want some shoes?
Jimmy Choo, with a handbag too, red or baby blue?
She gets to smilin' she ain't used to this, 'cause she ain't use to shit
I'm just laughin', could've been a pimp the way I move my lips
I be speedin' could've been a driver the way I push the whip (vroom-vroom)
You a hoe, coulda been a bitch, the way you throw a fit (bitch-ass)
But fuck that, right back to the script 'cause this a major lick
He got bricks, plus his neck is icy and it match his wrist
Now its like six, told her hit his phone, meet her in the Wic'
But he ain't go, but he ain't that slow, say meet 'em at the store (that's cool)
I'm like cool, let 'em front his move, do what he gon' do (I got 'em)
'Cause this the plot, put 'em in the pot, let it cook like stew
I grab my Glock, it been through a lot, but it still shoot like new (boom, boom)
We at the top, yeah we lost a lot, but that just how it go
But check the score, if y'all lose one more, that's six to twenty-four (yeah, yeah)
Let me focus, can't be zonin' out, he pullin' up now
He double park, he ain't gettin' out, he in that push to start (there he go right there)
That new Porsche it's built like a horse, colors like the 'fo
He got a ring, I guess he ain't divorce, wife probably a whore
Now she walk up, she struttin' her stuff, this bitch thick as fuck
Got in the truck, kissed him on his lip, he cuffin' her butt
Now I sneak up crouchin' like a tiger, like Snoop off The Wire
The block on fire, so I take precaution, mask on Michael Myers
I'm on his ass, he finna be mad, he gon' beat her ass
But this what happen, I got to the door, I thought I was cappin'
I was lackin' 'cause there go the opps, yellin' out, "What's crackin'?"
I'm like, "What?" I'm like, "Nigga, who? I was born to shoot"
I got aim, I'm like Jonny Dang, when it comes to chains
So I rise, hit one in his arm, hit one in his thigh, this no lie
Bitch it's do or die, you said you gon' slide
You got some nerve, your shit on the curb, boy we put in work
From 64th, and from 65th, we not from 63rd