Lyrics
Uh-huh
Friends to the end, right?
Look, listen, uh
When my friends needed a hand, CaTash would give 'em a arm
I’m always puttin somethin in it when they stick out they palm
They always givin they opinion when I make a new song
But never givin up that twenty when I’m coppin the bomb
I had a party at my house until the break of the dawn
I go to sleep, wake up, these niggas sleep on my lawn
But when that light bill come it’s like POOF and they gone
They the reason why the media got me all wrong
Ha, it’s the same rendition
We walk up in the club and it’s the same homies bitchin
Expectin me to pay for every order that they order
Don’t order five Patrons if y’all niggas cain’t afford it
I’m sippin that imported I paid fo' in cash
My dude slapped this chick ass, she point the finger at Tash
And that’s not the business so come a little closer
The camera’s on us baby so act like you supposed to
Close friends! How many of us have them?
When you broke you invisible
But when a player got cheese, it’s all the same thing
Close friends! How many of us need them?
But when the vibe is wrong, and your love ain’t strong
You might as well move along
So come closer to the drum while the city go dumb dumb
Cause L.A. California that’s the city I come from
Where niggas get cash, quick fast in a lump sum
Where niggas buy cars just to make they neighbor want one
None come fresher than CaTash in this department
I started on the corner then I cornered off the market
So I don’t gotta hoop to pull cars out my garage
Cause Tash’ll never break the bank on no bullshit entourages
When the money get low, that’s when the friends’ll go
But don’t ask me how it feel cause I just don’t know
Go ask somebody that had it all and lost it
That went with 50 niggas then ask how much it cost 'em
Three time pro bowler
He blew out his knee and now it’s no mo' soldiers
Career is over, as cold as it may seem
You gotta stick wit’cha homies befo' you made the team
So let me ask a personal question to make the song complete
If I was just a grimey nigga from up the street with heat
With a shitty little demo off my cousin Pete’s beats
Would y’all still be at my house or in another nigga’s suite?
Y’all treat me like royalty, Tash be in the zone
When I’m sittin on my chrome it’s like I’m sittin on a 'clone
My old bitches trippin still blowin up my phone
Every time that album drop they cain’t leave the kid alone
Well known for my realness
It happens every day so I hope y’all niggas feel this
Find somethin fake about what I said, I doubt it~!
If you do come close and let me holla at’cha 'bout it
No, ohhh I don’t need you
I’ma keep movin on, you might as well move along
(Close friends!) It’s a shame I cain’t depend on you…
