Murda Beatz
I Ain’t Goin’
[Intro: Dave East & DJ Holiday]
Goin' back to being broke
I had roaches in my crib God bless
Holiday season
I ain't goin' back to being broke (not me, not me)
I ain't goin' back to being broke (not me, not me)

[Chorus: Dave East]
I ain't goin' back to being broke
I had roaches in my crib, sticks and seeds all in my smoke
I had n***as jealous of me 'fore I ever had to gloat
Eviction notice on the door, my bed was on the floor
Oh lord, I ain't going back to being broke
Wake up, going trap was all we know
Make a couple racks, go get some more
Break it down and vacuum seal the smoke

[Verse 1: Dave East]
Woke up, snatched my pistol out the couch
N***as just robbed the connect
Get your shit, we gotta bounce
We was almost grabbing P's
We was gettin' it by the ounce
So, I took a trip down south
We put up enough to get a house
Shit got hot and we got out
Back up top, I need a block
Pooch could cook, just need a pot
You say you got work, I don't need it now
I'm in a drop and I'm speedin' (skrt)
Talking police, I don't see them now
I got the Glock for no reason (no reason)
It's hard to tell who be scheming now
I ain't going back to selling smoke
I ain't going back to selling pills
Loaded weapon in my coat
Now I'm somewhere in the hills
Private jet, Givenchy clothes
Need some Fronto, I could roll
Shit, I'm counting, got me cold (ice cold)
[Chorus: Dave East]
I ain't goin' back to being broke
I had roaches in my crib, sticks and seeds all in my smoke
I had n***as jealous of me 'fore I ever had to gloat
Eviction notice on the door, my bed was on the floor
Oh lord, I ain't going back to being broke
Wake up, going trap was all we know
Make a couple racks, Holiday Season go get some more
Break it down and vacuum seal the smoke

[Verse 2: Trouble]
Edgewood I'm in the back and posted, slums is where I come from
Rats and roaches, Henny toasting ease the pain to keep calm
I picked up the pistol 'fore I ever seen a pack
Turned out by the streets then I went turned out the snakes
How deep is that, I'ma tell ya
Pop was always in and out, same way as my trap, yeah
Doors swinging, n***as banging, that .40 sit on my lap, don't need your hoe
Put family first and be about your paper
Never thought you'd see my bloods united, thugging with all these neighbours
We're talking crips, real drip
Whenever you see Scoob, I'm talking never
Will I ever be going back what I'm used to, I was so broke
Roamin' homie, out here by my lonely on it
If I was born in slave days, they'd had to stone me, I'm so rebellious
Fuck n***as jealous, they always have been, I'ma tell you
My n***a, I'm telling you
I don't fuck with has-beens, I sell ya
Young n***a sell ya anything we have in
With beef I bring the flame, I guess I'm trapping
No feds, I will not tell, you can ask my past friends
I'm ridin' on [??] on Bentley, John Gotti henchmen
I was slipping, I was falling but a n***a got the fuck up
Thanking God for my hard times and God it's all love(?)
[Outro: DJ Holiday & Dave East]
I ain't goin' back to being broke
32 Entertainment
I ain't goin' back to being broke
Comission
Lord, I ain't goin' back to being broke
A Life Team
I ain't goin' back to being broke
It was our pleasure
Karma 2!
Love, I swear to god this shit don't get old
Go get them bags, n***a, haha-ha-ha