[Verse 1]
I woke up not givin’ a fuck, middle finger to the sky,
Heart cold, trust dead, let the fake ones fry.
Motherfuckers takin’ my kindness for weak shit,
’Til that muzzle flash make they block leak quick.
Opps better know, Glock stay tucked in the fit,
AR in the trunk — that’s the realest insurance I get.
Too old for the games, bitch, I don’t do pretend,
No talk — Glock blow — blood spray, chalk line the end.
Ain’t no debate, no talk, no truce,
You blink wrong once, I turn calm to abuse.
These Philly streets taught me pain before peace,
So I’m quick with the piece, and my aim don’t cease.
[Hook]
Ain’t no talk, bitch, I let that Glock talk back,
If a hater pop slick, I make his head go crack.
Fuck peace, fuck love, that shit don’t last,
Only real ones eat — fake ones get slashed.
Don’t test me, bitch, I’m off that edge,
Gun smoke sermons, blood-paved pledge.
If you cross that line, I ain’t finna react —
I just cock one back and let karma clap back.
[Verse 2]
Lil’ shorty said she done with them “nice guy” lies,
Said she need a real one that look death in the eyes.
I said, “Bet — I don’t chase, I replace,”
She smiled slow, said she love that face.
She like danger — the scent, the tone,
Said, “You different, daddy, your heart made of stone.”
Told her, “Drop that number, quit frontin’, stop playin’,
We eat first, then I’m fuckin’ — no delayin’.”
No love songs, bitch, I’m not Cupid,
Just real life, raw pipe, and I do it ruthless.
She said, “You cold,” I said, “Nah, I’m truthless,”
Loyalty rare — I move bulletproof, bitch.
[Hook]
Ain’t no talk, bitch, I let that Glock talk back,
If a hater pop slick, I make his head go crack.
Fuck peace, fuck love, that shit don’t last,
Only real ones eat — fake ones get slashed.
Don’t test me, bitch, I’m off that edge,
Gun smoke sermons, blood-paved pledge.
If you cross that line, I ain’t finna react —
I just cock one back and let karma clap back.
[Verse 3]
Now it’s back to the grind, that same block tension,
Same Glock hummin’ like divine intervention.
Shorty slid through, said, “You still that dude,”
Yeah, heart still numb, same fucked-up mood.
What I learned? Kindness’ll get you shot in the spine,
So I move solo — dark tint, dark mind.
Ain’t no trust left, just triggers and plans,
Money in the safe, gunpowder on my hands.
Love and death — same rhythm, same tone,
One in my bed, one on my chrome.
Philly nights cold, but the pain stay hotter,
Don’t cross me, bitch — I’m God’s stepfather.
[Bridge]
Blood on my past, lust in my night,
I live wrong, pray twice, and still fight.
Ain’t no happy endings in this real-life script,
Just bullets, backshots, and bonds that split.
[Hook – Final]
Ain’t no talk, bitch, I let that Glock talk back,
If a hater pop slick, I make his head go crack.
Fuck peace, fuck love, that shit don’t last,
Only real ones eat — fake ones get slashed.
No mercy, no chill, no fake-ass pact,
I’m Philly born raw — heart black, gun packed.
If you cross that line, I ain’t finna to lay back
[End]
Denway