Lyrics: Dr. Ama. Split Personali-d. So Close.

(feat. J Maul)

[Intro: J. Maul]
Yeah, it must of been the money
Cooking reverands and Q sevens
We were so close

[Dr. Ama:]
Cooking cash, had niggas moving too fast
Thinking it's how we chase bread, pursuit ass
G life, that's how we both give it up
Ass butt cash, see ten live it up
Go against the grain, for his blood stain the pavement
Mental enslavement, send motivated
Q for your purple haze, gin motivated
But then slowly hatred, poison our thugs
Miss trust cause in our force, damn
We were so close, no room for infiltrators
No room for haters, now doom confiscate us
View change, Henny got me thinking you change
Hang with new niggas in your new blue range
Envy us, yes, that's a wrizzy, put an end to us
Next time I see you, best believe my little friend to bust
Fuck our past homey, a sand in the hour glass, homey
Move with your gun and act like you know me
What, move with your gun and act like you know me

[Chorus x2: Dr. Ama]
The dream, pushing hundred thousand dollar cars
Prada, antique, life like ghetto stars
Patron, twisting kush up in cigars
We were so close, but yet so far

[J. Maul:]
So now we on the block like Dikembee
Son, I cross the street trynna flash a couple Benzi's
Son, from up the block he cousins with little Timmy
He coming round my way, trying to front like my strip empty
Don't care who your family be, he showing off a long Tammy seed
We gon' catch 'em slipping like bananas be
Right before he peel off, I be right back
Butter pass the steel off, we gon' get it sealed off
Get the bandana work, remember this is broad day
Hurry up, he ain't gone be here all day
I'm good money, we good, let's get our dough up
Hold up, that's when the black Cadillac rolled up
Soon as they leave, young buck is finished
I'm trying to see who in it, but the whole truck tinted
It's been like ten minutes, I'm getting a little impatient
Whoever in that truck out to get it, I ain't playing
And whoever getting between my paper
I'm bout to do it now, we can talk about it later
I ran over, hand over the jammer
I saw his girl, homey, you look a little familiar
Forget the small talk, run ya pockets and your jewelry
Take it all off, ain't your name 'More Dough'?
That's a negative, and tell your peoples be cool
Before they cheddarless, don't try to make a better brick
Turn my back, jogging off, pocket full of shine
Next thing you know, feel something hot up in my spine
The rental in the street, I dropped in the yellow lines
And couldn't even turn my back to look behind
I was so close

[Chorus x2]