CJ - Exposed lyrics

My homie turned snitch, I heard he ratting
(I heard he ratting)
Please don't let me catch that boy in traffic
(Please don't let me)
4, 5,  6, head cracker (Head cracker)
Real trap shit, get tragic (Tra tra tra)
My homie turned snitch, I heard he ratting
(I heard he ratting)
Please don't let me catch that boy in traffic
(Oh no) 4, 5, 6, head cracker (yeah, yeah)
Real trap shit, get tragic
(yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah)
Aw man (Aw shit)
You know you done fucked up right
(Breaking now, huh?)
Let's get straight into it, look

Niggas bitch up and start telling
(And start telling)
We was straight finessin' all them tellers
(Fax, fax, fax)
I remember trapping in Margielas (Trappin')
I promise you there was nothing
You could tell us (Nah, nah)
He biting the cheese, he snitching
(He a fucking rat)
I remember riding with the smithing
(Gang, gang)
Louboutins, nigga, I'm a Christian (On God)
I even got caught up with the kitchen (yeah)
Huh, damn, like what a time
I was better off in the
Block getting off them dimes (Westside)
Niggas being a preacher and writing
Statements and dropping dimes
Ain't a crazy how niggas be
CI's the whole time (Niggas fuckin' cops)
Niggas be your bros, who would've thought
(Who would've thought)
Cops behind me, I'mma put that shit in sport
(Skrrt, skrrt) when you was fucked up
I was holding down the fort (yeah)
I should've known better when I
Ain't see you in court, damn
Got me sitting there thinking
Like what the fuck (What the fuck?)
Niggas be scared
Go to church and get you a gun (yeah)
And I know if shit went left
You the type of nigga to run
(Type of nigga to run)
We was hopping on the flights, taking trips
That was just for fun
I was most wanted on the island
That's a fact (That's a fact)
Niggas want my head, want me dead
They want me on my back (Want me on my back)
I told my mama don't worry 'cause
I ain't going out like that (Nah, ma)
I remember going broke
Hitting 'em licks to get it back (yeah)
I was fiending for a buck and
I was fiending for a band (Really though)
I ain't really give a fuck and
I ain't really give a damn
(I ain't really give a damn)
We was hopping out them trucks and
We was spinning in them vans (yeah)
And it's still free all the real niggas
That's still locked up in the gym
(yeah, yeah, yeah, gang)
Thought you had my back
You ain't have nothing (Huh, huh)
Thought you were a real one
Should've known that you was bluffin'
(I should've known better)
Got it out the mud
Turn nothing into something (yeah)
When shit get real
These niggas softer than a muffin (Fax)

You niggas softer than a muffin
Fucking muffin ass niggas
I'm back and I'm better on the gang