S.K.A.R. - Patience Lyrics

Yeah, yeah, yeah
Shout out to everybody that been f*ckin' with my music for real, yo
Ain't even a whole lot of y'all, but who gives a f*ck

Pussy ass niggas keep playin'. Chopper on my hitter, he sprayin
Leave him on the street where he layin', lookin' like a piece of the pavement
Started from the bottom, from the basement, we ain't really got a lot of patience
Roll up then we smoke him like we facin', we gon' catch a body like Jason

Watch who you talk to and know what you sayin
Cause I got them niggas that drill in advance
They pull up with Uzis and hop out the vans
They ain't sparin' feelings, they kill in a glance
Whole hood know that you stamped, pleadin' the fifth while you tell on your manz
Nigga, you don't give a damn. You rather snitch before get in a jam
You had his life in your hands, just walked away like you did what you can
You really think that we playin'? Till you see choppers and we make you dance
Never come back to the hood, you know that you ain't good no more
And even if you ever do, you know that we gon' blow
Send his ass out to the heavens, holes in his body, I gave him like seven
Shot him at ten, he was dead by eleven, by then I was at my boy crib playin' Tekken
And that's what I'll say to the boys if they ever come around here checkin
My niggas ain't singin' like Usher, they ain't got no time for confessions
Pussy, you should always keep a weapon, always keep a hollow when you steppin
Pull up with the ruler like I was his tutor, he gon' learn his lesson
Teach a nigga how to catch a shellcase
Hollows in his body, leave a nigga with a pale face
F*ck around and ask him while he dying, "how the shell taste?"
Ammo kinda old, so it probably got a stale taste
If he had it on him then it could've been a stalemate
Well now that boy layin' in blood, it is what it is
And was what it was, was livin' his life like he was a thug

Pussy ass niggas keep playin'. Chopper on my hitter, he sprayin
Leave him on the street where he layin', lookin' like a piece of the pavement
Started from the bottom, from the basement, we ain't really got a lot of patience
Roll up then we smoke him like we facin', we gon' catch a body like Jason

You could get wrapped like a gift and topped with a ribbon, mailed to your family for Christmas
We'll put your top in a box and then we gon' send it, no licks, but your head be given
To all of your folks where you live. You try me you trippin', they found that out in the kitchen
Where is your son? Bitch, he missin', he got me livid, probably because he ain't listen
We took him out on a mission, must've been lippin' off at the mouth, now he driftin
Probably somewhere down the river, no hair, no teeth, no heart, fingers or liver
They ain't seen his face in plenty of days, but trust me by now they remember
Niggas always talkin' that tough shit, till I had a squad pull up to the function
Flyer than a goose, look at everybody duckin', but you never see the ratchet on me cause it's tucked in
I ain't come to fight, homie, I ain't for the tusslin'
Hope that you don't make the wrong move cause I'm bussin
Thinkin' that you came in with your crew, I ain't uppin
But nigga, I ain't scared of nothin
Talk at your face, get hit in your stomach
Police on the way, now his body gushin

Pussy ass niggas keep playin'. Chopper on my hitter, he sprayin
Leave him on the street where he layin', lookin' like a piece of the pavement
Started from the bottom, from the basement, we ain't really got a lot of patience
Roll up then we smoke him like we facin', we gon' catch a body like Jason

Shout out to the gang nigga
Money Over Entertainment
Yeah yeah yeah
F*ck that, we gone leave that like that