One-eighty on the 401, lights off the rampVents full of loud and the windows all downTwo lanes over 'fore the sign even showFeel like a guy for about a minute, thoughThen a set of lights sit behind us too longWhole car go quiet with the chune still onNobody breathe. Nobody say what it is.Then it cuts. And we laugh. That's the part I don't miss.'Cause the blem was ten minutes, the pree was the restEvery phone that buzz you clocking who it is nextWho got beak? Who folded? Who's watching the door?That ain't freedom, brudda. That's a shift that don't end.Luck ain't a plan, it's a loanLuck ain't a plan, it's a loanAnd they come and collect what you oweKeep six, keep six, all night in the 6ixNever had a day off - that's the trick (that's the trick)Ain't a hustle if you never get to sitCut, likkle brother. Cut. Cut.Keep six, keep six, till they read out your guvvyJudge don't know your rap name, bro (nah)Same road, same ends - I just cutCut, likkle brother. Cut. Cut.Thirteen years between us, one crib, no planAsh on the windowsill, ashtray was a canYou was the smart one, I was only born firstBoth of us dodging shrapnel from the same damn houseDukes set the fire, then she pull up with the hoseTake a picture of the water, show it everywhere she goEvery hand she reach out come stapled to a billEvery rescue got a camera, every gift got a willAnd the day you really need her? Phone go dead.That's the number, likkle brother. That's the number in your head.Telly downtown, whole mandem in the video, gassedTwenty-one, chain still on - duppied by the springLuck ain't a plan, it's a loanLuck ain't a plan, it's a loanAnd they come and collect what you oweKeep six, keep six, all night in the 6ixNever had a day off - that's the trick (that's the trick)Ain't a hustle if you never get to sitCut, likkle brother. Cut. Cut.Keep six, keep six, till they read out your guvvyJudge don't know your rap name, bro (nah)Same road, same ends - I just cutCut, likkle brother. Cut. Cut.I ain't preaching. I was in it. I just cut.Kept trying to fix you - that was pride, not love.The past don't pay what the past said it owedRegret's a hallway and it circles you homeGot likkle shoes by my door now, and a ringAin't asking you to want it. Might not be your ting.You beat one bid - and that's the trap, you beat oneNow it feel like a skill and not a coin that come upNext time they latch you it ain't months, it's yearsRange, canteen, and a guvvy they read clearYou call it miskeen to work? Look at what you do -KEEP SIX EVERY NIGHT AND THE BOSS IS YOUSame head that count angles and clock every doorCould build a ting with your name. That's what it's for.Laptop and a week and the whole thing is yoursNo lookout, no burner, AND YOU SLEEP WITH NO DOOR CHECKEDKeep six, keep six, all night in the 6ixNever had a day off - that's the trick (that's the trick)Ain't a hustle if you never get to sitCUT, LIKKLE BROTHER. CUT. CUT.Keep six, keep six, till they read out your guvvyJudge don't know your rap name, bro (nah)Same road, same ends - I just cutCUT, LIKKLE BROTHER. CUT. CUT.One room, bad couch, no bell, no pree -Beats a range and a man taking a shit beside your bed.Same blood. Different exits.Phone's on. Always been.Just don't let it be collect.
