Letra de ' Decoded (feat. Scarface) ' de Freddie Gibbs

Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah

Mama said it would be days like this
Knew the police was gon' raid like this
Knew this shit was in my veins like this
Nigga, fuck it, I get paid like this
Mama said that it'd be days like this
Knew the police was gon' raid like this
Knew this shit was in my veins like this (Yeah)
Nigga, fuck it, I get paid like this (Yeah, yeah)

Shit get wet up, triple threat, uh
Devil in the flesh walkin' in Triple S, uh
Bullet with the green tip go through the vest, uh
1990 Testarossa, fuck a Tesla
My Uncle Sam sold me them yams, government issued grams
Grandma got her taxes back, I can trap out the Grand Am
Cooking dope to Gregory and Luther, that was a nigga jam (There's nothing better than love)
Bitch, ain't nothing better than love, go get it from your man
Iced out G where my heart used to be (Bitch)
I smoke a nigga then show up while they reading his eulogy
I blew my first million on cars, drugs, bitches, and jewelry
I run the section now, I love my connection, Chuck Woolery (Chuck Woolery, nigga)
Corleone casino, Freddie Tarantino
They do me like Benny Blanco, then I'll go smoke Carlito (Bitch)
In Vegas, I sold a kilo at a suite in the Rio (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
I often eat with them people that'll kidnap your people

I live for the moment, stuck in the minute
In an instance, my vision was showing what I was missing
Damn, I should've listened
Too many homies locked down off in prison, living
Isn't this how it was supposed to be?
Chose to be knee-deep off in this dope game and I sold a ki'
To an undercover, low-down motherfucker got me
Ducking indictments, paying the price is an understatement
I'm ten toes in the pavement
I'd rather die than give a statement
And we don't talk to police, fuck 12, fuck 'em
Let 'em meet me in hell 'cause a cell ain't an option
The streets ain't the only people watching
(Feds on my line, every phone call popping)
I can hear it deep down in my spirit
I'm super careful what I say, a nigga leery
You hear me?

Man, it's like we failed our youngsters, man
It's like we not giving the youngsters that game no more, man
That shit that they can live by
That shit that they can, you know, music to drive by, you feel me?
Like, like, like, my, my nigga
These niggas, these lil' youngsters walkin' around this bitch like they bulletproof, man
Come on, dog, wake the fuck up, man
Don't you know a nigga'll knock your motherfuckin' head off out here with that bullshit?
Quit playing, dog, straight up
Soul Sold Separately
Triple S in-room dining and delicacies, how may I be of service to you?
Norva, Lambo, it's Julian, man
Yo, you guys gotta turn this fuckin' album in, man
It's been three years
Freddie has himself holed up in a fuckin' suite in Vegas
I know he's tryna charge us for that shit
You guys are way overbudget
Yo, listen, I do not wanna lose my job for this
Love you guys, but I got two kids in private school
And by the way, Norva, put the wings down
Fuckin' room service is not recoupable