Ransom, Ché Noir, Klass Murda - Price of Fame lyrics

I ain't ever think that we would
Make it off of reefer
Got a plug downtown and one way in Catalina
Showed my man the blueprint and
Made him a believer
And my plug look like he related to Selena
Your weed smell like shit and
Not a soul want it
My weed KRS-One, it got a nose on it
You speakin’ to the big ape
Could turn you to a big plate
I got shooter from Cayuga to Midstate
And got shooters in the street
Dumpin’ out the Jeep Cherokee
If the nigga don’t die, he gon’ need therapy
I just bought a new 40
I grip it and hit him with it
When I’m done it "click
Click" like pictures on prison visit's
Rеal dope boy, my whole town know
Part-time rappеr, they still tryna
Steal my sound though, it’s Murda

They say I’m a gift from God
But possessed by a dark energy
A dull blade can always be
Sharpened by smart enemies
A hundred arms like large centipedes
Dark tendencies every clip I got for the
Game is like Bob Menery’s
Breakin’ down these plays in
A vulgar fashion, you tryna box?
Shit, you ain’t gotta wait for
No lull in action, i come relax him
Body drop, your focus is leavin’ nigga
No one distract him
One attraction, money and murder
That was my hunger passion
Now it’s money deals with my Jewish lawyer
Champagne under my chandelier in
My newest foyer
Look in the eyes of your closest friends
And see who was for ya
Now look in the eyes of them same
Friends and see who destroys ya, damn
Get paid handsomely but actually ugly
Don’t smile when you shakin’ my hand
Don’t ever laugh when you hug me
I know the cut of your jib
Don’t gotta ask if you love me
This fifth’ll crush up your ribs and
Blow off half of your skully, it’s Duffel

The price of fame, I fill
These mics with pain, redefine the game
The art of war, don’t need a knife or gun
When your mind’s the blade my life a maze
I come from a city full of crime and pain
A bunch of niggas playin’ dice or spades
Twistin’ microbraids
Top five and if these niggas sleep
They sleep inside a grave
A sniper’s aim, trigger pull
A bullet land inside his brain
The paramedics searchin’ for a pulse
But they can’t find a vein
His family stressed, whisper silent pray
Scream and cry his name
Look, they put a Black person for sale
Use churches and tell
That the man we worship is pale
If you could read
That’s why they murdered the males
Now it’s ironic how these niggas catch a
Sentence ‘fore they learn how to spell
We sittin’ courtside
I don’t watch the Lakers from a skybox
Road to riches most niggas crash
'cause of blind spots pen game cold
Invest my figures and I buy stock
My drip game cold, could squeeze a
River from a eye drop, nigga