Death & Taxes Lyrics – Nicholas Craven & Boldy James

Death & Taxes Lyrics

[Intro]
Where we at?
Craven
It’s the Jackson
Yeah, let’s get it

[Verse 1]
It’s Mr. Price Of Tea, can’t understand these niggas for the life of me
How they was never none of the above what they was tryna be
Now out the blue, they ConCreatures, I find that shit amusin’
They thinkin’ we the same, don’t know that I’m not even human
Me and Bruno seasoned vets, play with the work same way I treat my pets
Screamin’, “Free the real,” tell ’em to keep the rest
Niggas know who put on for the D, but won’t give me the cred
Don’t know too many niggas in the streets who beat the feds
Borderline anemic in Detroit, you gotta bundle up
Creature Gang, niggas gettin’ horsed if they ain’t one of us
In my ghetto where we play it, every man for hisself
Black and white paperwork, cleaner than the Board of Health
On the set, I done done some things, but never gon’ confess
At one point in time, seemed like that money had my soul possessed
Still drug zonin’ on the 6, but this ain’t Bouldercrest
Linked up with some real niggas out in Montreal, Quebec
Let’s get it

[Chorus]
I put that on the set
227, Creature Gang, we heavy on the press
Have my youngin knock a nigga down soon as he up the rod
A nigga play with Bo Jack, he gettin’ struck to God
That’s what you pussy niggas get for livin’ in the past
Everything he did, it came back and bit him in the ass
Say you can run, but can’t hide soon as we catch you lackin’
It’s two things we can’t escape, nigga, that’s death and taxes

[Verse 2]
Two-way, deuce, siete
Was six-plus figures richer soon as we met with Jefe
This weed I’m smokin’ funky as Le Pew, I call it Pepe
Speed demon, 392 floatin’ like a segway
Collarbone on frigid, spinnin’ up a four and a midget
Life is what you make it, he taketh and he giveth
SIG Sauer 227, limited edition
Flawless reputation, blemish-free, I kept it mint condition
Got it the harder way, so you know I was penny-pinchin’
Paranoid, quick to up the pole on any nigga clinchin’
Goin’ for it, in the clutch when it’s fourth and inches
Slide down your chimney for that bag, all my niggas Grinches
Hear niggas claim they from the gutter, but I’m from the trenches
Ghetto Olympics, hittin’ hurdles, I was jumpin’ fences
Seventy-sixin’ off of Curtis, got the junkies bingin’
Huntin’ for that drink, ain’t found no purple, got my stomach cringin’
It’s Blocks

[Chorus]
I put that on the set
227, Creature Gang, we heavy on the press
Have my youngin knock a nigga down soon as he up the rod
A nigga play with Bo Jack, he gettin’ struck to God
That’s what you pussy niggas get for livin’ in the past
Everything he did, it came back and bit him in the ass
Say you can run, but can’t hide soon as we catch you lackin’
It’s two things we can’t escape, nigga, that’s death and taxes

[Outro]
What else?