G Herbo, Don Q - This Thing Of Ours lyrics

In this little thing of ours
Swear this shit is more than music
I be in the stu' for hours
Tryna put my all into it
Kick the door and bring the team in
That's how you supposed to do it
Success just brings you more stress
I still be going through it
Even though it ain't no love lost
I took the gloves off
I could rap flashy but the
Streets want that mud talk
Tryna find out them drugs cost
And knock the plug off
Close range, stains on the snub
Gotta wipe the blood off

It get devastating
Tell Satan I'm already waiting
With my flame and I ain't scared to bring
It right to hell and face him
Asked me why I go hard and
The money was my explanation
Still riding dirty with my 30
Ain't no registration
That's why I got a check for
Agents once I reach my destination
He caught a case
Knew he was telling once he left the station
Even when my head is racing
I focus on that bread and chase it
You broke cause you kept complaining
It's all about preparation
Every line on point like an exclamation
He get that 9 and he point with no hesitation
I seen shootouts in the park
That was recreation
They was best friends but
That jealousy caused separation

In this little thing of ours
Swear this shit is more than music
I be in the stu' for hours
Tryna put my all into it
Kick the door and bring the team in
That's how you supposed to do it
Success just brings you more stress
I still be going through it
Even though it ain't no love lost
I took the gloves off
I could rap flashy but the
Streets want that mud talk
Tryna find out them drugs cost
And knock the plug off
Close range, stains on the snub
Gotta wipe the blood off

I was in the hood with my SIG
Never faced a bid cause I'm
Good at what I did
Like a beautician, seen a nigga wig split
Forgive me for my sins, God
I was just a kid
Shit
I'm a man, God, pull up in that Benz, God
I'm just tryna win, God, split
It with my friends
God
Envy, hatred, I can peep it through my lens
This the type of paper have
You beefin' with your mans
Blemishes and street shit
It was streaking up my brand
Conversations with the Reaper
It was leaking through my pen
Talk in the streets hurt us
Language from that burner
Only talking through them burners, practice
Murder, and I'll murder
Nigga

In this little thing of ours
Swear this shit is more than music
I be in the stu' for hours
Tryna put my all into it
Kick the door and bring the team in
That's how you supposed to do it
Success just brings you more stress
I still be going through it
Even though it ain't no love lost
I took the gloves off
I could rap flashy but the
Streets want that mud talk
Tryna find out them drugs cost
And knock the plug off
Close range, stains on the snub
Gotta wipe the blood off