Trae Tha Truth, Billy Cook - Stressin Me lyrics

Niggas be stressing me, niggas be testing me
Taking my kindness for a weakness
In this industry niggas be stressing me
Trying to get everything for free
Knowing that anything worth having
Costs a pretty penny

I gotta get raw, this time around dog
Cause motherfuckers
Thinking they can push me in the ground
Just saying do anything to me
Expect to know my peeps
So this song goes out
To those haters who envy me
My point exactly
They ain't gotta be a platinum song
Just as long as you get the message
You hear in this song
I got a lovely remedy, for this shit
But in the face or the mind
Ghetto platinum hit's
When you doing something right
Niggas got something bad to say
See I ain't trying to please
These phony busters anyway

It was some niggas on there
Sure was talking about my hair
Now they're broke
And they're all what living there
How you gon let a nigga like me
Slip through your fingers yo
It's kinda like you hit the lotto
Then just lost it all
See I'm a ghetto platinum nigga
I'm gon shine this year
Y'all can't stop what God has for me
It's so crystal clear
So now sit back, relax and enjoy the ride
You had yours on
Now it's Cook and Trae's time
Don't start none, won't be none
Don't start none, won't be noooone
Don't start none, won't be none
Don't start none, won't be none

Still stuck between real and fake
But I'ma eliminate fake
When I beat the hate i'm on my last leg
And on the verge of clicking
And these cats ain't gon learn
Till they come up missing
Niggas taking the help
That I give for granted
Me and Cook been wrecking shit, for too long
You better get your ass up
And get your stacks up
Trying to roll chop for me
And get you messed up i'm sick and tired
Of these wanna be fake type
Industry hype, all about the limelight
Living life shife
And ride a nigga dick tight
Better go on, cause I'm the real nigga type
And I'm squaring it off, till it's over
Stress done got me, running out my mind
And I put it on the line, each and every time
Since they messed up my vibe
Now the haters mine
It ain't no more friends
Ain't no more foes
Ain't no more kin folk, and no more hoes
Just me and the Maab, and SLAB
And I'ma rep my click
Until the curtain close
Lord knows, I'm due for earning my crown
I done waited my time
And now it's going down
Trae and Billy Cook, Stress the remix
Life in the street niggas, better move around

I ain't trying to start nothing
Ya'll can feel fa sho
I keeps it real can you tell
By the way I spit it yo
This is the first and last time
Thugging on a negative vibe
I shoulda done these writing songs
Are going ninety wide
You think I'm talking about you
If the shoe fit wear it dog
You done pissed me off
This was the last straw
You whack producers who think
Your tracks are the bomb
I thought you knew you need a platinum
Wasn't a real song i can go on and on
While all while sealing the flow
See all you niggas really need me
But you don't hear me though

Yeah, hey yeeeeah
Trae help me out, Trae help me out
The Maab, yeeeeah BMG 1965
The click, the squad, help me out
O-o-o-o oooooh, weeeell

These niggas don't want none