Funkmaster Flex, Jadakiss and Murda Beatz - Damn Shame

Ain't even too much talkin' to do
'Cause you might be an informant anyway
Haha (Murda on the beat so it's not nice)

I ain't with the small talk, I let the tequila do it (uh-huh)
Bulletproof the Porsche like Tony, I let the dealer do it (woo)
Crack in the hooptie that needed the power steerin' fluid (mm)
They just have to pass it off to me, I was like, "Yeah, I'll do it" (I'll do it)
They ain't never did what I've done, so don't compare him to it (nah)
Quiet while I'm up in the kitchen, I put the care into it (haha)
Bars don't depreciate (never), my shit just decapitate (uh)
Streets know what it is (they know), so go on with your accolades
This is for the underprivileged that call hell home (I see y'all)
Trump gave 'em twelve hunnid, Obama gave 'em cellphones (ayy)
My man got a quarter (uh), he was gettin' shorted (uh-huh)
They hit him with another one, I'm scared to tell his daughter (ooh)
Shit is gettin' crazy, drug game is out of order (mm)
This fentanyl, pills, all this K2 in this water (yup)
Not the money you saved, the money that you run through
Damn shame, but I guess that's what it's come to

They run the game, huh?
I guess that's what it's come to (that's what it's come to)
Followers and likes
I guess that's what it's come to (that's what it's come to)
Stars overnight
I guess that's what it's come to (that's what it's come to)
But when that money run out
Guess who they run to?
Beefin' on the internet
I guess that's what it's come to (that's what it's come to)
Captions and comments
Guess that's what it's come to (that's what it's come to)
Whole lotta nonsense
That's what it's come to (that's what it's come to), yeah
Fake chains, damn shame
That's what it's come to (haha)

Far as rappers go, kill a few, teach a few (uh-huh)
I'm in a digital space that's unreachable (you hear me?)
I got a eulogy written out for each of you (facts)
You know exactly just who the fuck I'm speaking to (you)
This ain't music that's made the stand on the couch, boy (boy)
This is somethin' that real niggas can vouch for (woo)
He ain't get one kite, he got a dime in (ten)
His paperwork ain't right, he gotta sign in (uh)
This is a real conversation, don't even chime in (uh-uh)
Niggas always go wrong 'cause they don't read the fine print (never)
But when the money run out, guess who they run to? (Guess who?)
Damn shame, but I guess that's what it's come to

What?

Written by:
Aston Taylor, Jason Phillips

Publisher:
Lyrics © Songtrust Ave

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