Because of Money
• Written by Reaper
Niggas sending for me.
Who wants war but my enemies?
I got many frenemies.
I was never changing.
They were always hating.
It's funny all the shit pent up because of money.
I was working hard for everybody.
Working hard for my bugatti.
Sloppy unbelievers never wanted me in speakers.
Mothersuckers only listened to the numbers.
Slumbered in my divisions.
Knowing I had a vision.
I should be living the dream.
Even the closest ones schemes.
It's all fraud .
People talk, money talk, everything's bought.
As a kid I always thought.
I've been watching.
They've been plotting.
So there's no need for mercy.
They love it when shit hurts me.
I give them a minute.
By the last word we finish.
Loyalties diminished.
They get it.
They choose the limit.
Paint me as a villain.
I get the gimmicks but I'm still trill and....
You get the feeling.
Reeling in the biggest fishes.
Knowing all their intents malicious.
Witness me fucking up the critics.
Automatic bars makes many narcissistic.
I use to give a lot.
Well now I'm taking shots.
I'm tired of these bum suggestions.
I'm sane because of one discretion.
Niggas thinking with that same impression.
Lessons learned.
Now I'm unconcerned.
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About the Artist
Reaper
Member since November 26 2013