Full fledge wit it hot sauce and biscuit, like a nigga
For my drink? Brugal and pineapple, like a nigga.
And to top it off... Its in a red cup, go figure.
Tryna reason wit myself "its ok 2 do Nigga" so long as I'm still this nigga, not that nigga.
That nigga rushes thru life and usually dies fast. This nigga open doors, holds em and never walks past. This nigga tucks his shirt in his pants...its in his genes. He tucks his shirt in his boxers to show his....its not in his jeans.
That nigga tells her whatever she needs to hear to get inside.. I told her I aint really want it and jus treated her real nice. She ended up wantin me more 'cause I aint bite...damn near cursed me out cause I aint want inside... She's a nigga.
In a lot of ways me and that nigga start out similar but I leave a tip and that nigga he's usually short on dinner.
We often times are mistaken for one another... similar stature, haircut, vernacular and such. Waffles and chicken for brunch... don't kno or care the difference between a pouch and a clutch...Never show emotions.. "What's the matter?" "Nuttin much"
But the similarities die where he lives "The Land of Don't Give a F---"
Watch how I move closely and compare it to he...
On certain issues I'm indifferent to save stress, that niggas different he just don't care none the less. This Nigga plays devil's advocate at times to hear the other side, that nigga lives in Stubborn and is on a diet from wise.
I luv that nigga like a brother does... 'cause ultimately... who am I to judge?
But I keep him at arm's distance...His alistfullness quiets his mind like a mime. He's why I'm...endangered like this biscuit.
C'mon my nigga.
