[Intro] There's a lot of things in this world you got to accept, you know Especially me, listen [Verse 1] A lot of niggas be playin' the fool And I ain't havin' that shit like prayin' in school I'm gonna keep more tools than True Values that I know how to use I don't need "how to's" Nigga's don't believe they can bleed or bruise That's why solo niggas always leave in two's Weed and booze'll have nigga's leaking from wounds Ain't no comin' back home, Mom's leasin' your room Nigga's will lose their grins when it's Lupe and friends And them orange juice Timb's in a foregin coupe that swims Now a days emcee's be wildin' And my mic check be better than they whole album They wonder why they can't touch it Cause my shit stay over there head like carry on luggage I'd give it to any performer on any budget The rhyme in the I am niggas want nothin' of it [Refrain] You got to, accept the troubles, it's not like it's hard Yeah no choice but to, accept the troubles, it's not like it's hard You know you got to, accept the troubles, it's not like it's hard Accept the troubles nigga, live with it You got to, accept the troubles, it's not like it's hard Yeah, listen, yeah [Verse 2] I'm never blunted Cause table's can turn like 1200s But I keep a 'three-eight' on that burn next to my stomach Shells punished concerned well from it Cause I learn customers return if the product is humming Yo it's Was, one hundred will walk for duke Runnin' best believe them bullets be in hot pursuit Especially don't pull it dawg it's not for you You dressed up like prom and deaded I'm the alarm I got Winter in my grill and Summer in my palms And numbers on your Moms dumb and dumbers for the strong I know them bars is hurting cause I'm a hard working dark child Like R. Jerkins I see the sharks lurkin', honest, hungry CCF sponser the alumni and rep Madison constant money I'm a fast learner with a fast burner And I hope you can fast, cause there's no eating when it's my turn to [Refrain] [Verse 3] Am I what you expected, the good die young and I've been resurrected The hood's my son, I'm quite impressive Best believe it's yayo with WJ Goals and them writin' credits Yo, I mouth piece niggas swearing ya tough And you're that sweet, that nasty, that gushy stuff And that 8-40 hoody with the wooden guts With the AK 4-fully that'll cook you and ya tux Ya ain't thorough, you got it mixed up like Dourough Just cause they in suits that don't mean they the Bureau Your small time so close to worthless Only feds at your house is the Postal Service It's all love why try and hate us Don't make me call thugs And you shook like vibrators Head shots to ruin your linings and tapers We hustlas flip cane like five Phi Thetas Understand nigga [Refrain]