Me, Myself & I

All I got is me, myself, and I, yeah Yeah, babe, me, myself, and I Section 8, telegram, yeah All I got is me, myself, and I, got myself again Time is money, I need that money, got no time for no friends Ain't nobody gon' ride like me, cause I'm gon' ride to the end Been in fucked up situations, where you niggas would bend Play my cards, I never bluff, and I ain't throwin' my hand Shit, I saw when times got hard, I watched my nigga readin' it He snitched We called that talk, I can't believe what he did Cause he knew what we was doin' before we went on that lick I been rappin' and snappin', I fell in love with this shit They call that winnin', cause I be jackin' since I was a lil kid I been trippin' and goonin', and throwin' rocks at the pen All that stickin' and movin', it got me doin' it big Look, nobody gon' keep it real how I be keepin' it real Coulda snitched and got released, you know they offered a deal Put myself in tight positions, I can't even regret em I was schemin', times was hard, and I just needed some cheddar My life a movie, it's Kodak, I'm the movie director Sometimes a nigga get scared, but I know it's gon' get better Remember when it was my people, them was gon' send me some letters Cause I was missin' my bitches, and I was missin' my fellas Hot pocket on me, so my pants keep fallin' They wanted to take me out the game, but I just keep on ballin' Polo down, pop my collar, lil nigga shot callin' Could just hold up for me on the other line, guap callin' I'll get back to you later, I'm rollin' out of my tater I been leanin' so damn much, and now it got me disabled Niggas grindin', be connivin', do shit under the table Just last night, John John got hit by the raiders Fuckin' round, I'm on the uggy, hit that boy with his hands Once I came out the womb, I jumped straight to teenager They say I'm a demon semen, young boy, hell raider If I ain't pullin' up in a foreign, then I'm pullin' in caver Project baby paper chasin' tied They dead fly Institution Run up on me, send you straight to your maker All that kush that I be smokin', you think I'm from Jamaica But hell nah, ain't from Jamaica, bitch, I'm from golden acres And I'll attack you with that 9, and that big idle later And I'll lay a nigga down, I'm like "fuck nigga, paid him" I ain't bakin, but I'm cakin', I should open a pastry I got dope in the basement