Tyler, The Creator
Lyric guide

48 (feat. Frank Ocean & Nas)

48 (feat. Frank Ocean & Nas) lyrics by Tyler, The Creator. Crack fucked up the world, and I wonder if they realized the damage I mean, I come from an era who...

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Lyrics

48 (feat. Frank Ocean & Nas)

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Crack fucked up the world, and I wonder if they realized the damage

I mean, I come from an era who made a lot of money of that shit

I wonder if it fucked with their conscious

It fucked with me being out there, I couldn't stand it

I couldn't stand seeing people fucking themselves up like that

But that's where the money came from

48, 48, 48 States I get it in

48, 48, 48 States I get it in

They call me Mr. Treat Your Nose

If you really need some blow

I can get it for the low

Shit is getting warmer on that corner

Gotta watch out for them 5-0 phoners

Your mother is a goner

I warned you before you supersized my fries with that dollar

You got a daughter, shits getting harder

The only thing you wanna bump her was your freedom

You can't afford to get caught up but you in too deep, and the seashore ain't soil

You got a mother, she don't support you

But you bought her a new house cause you love her

Growing up you barely had a roof

Now you got a coupe and it doesn't have a roof

I guess you’re accustomed to what you’re used to

So you bought two, nigga

They are coming for you, nigga

Niggas be hating I'm doing them bitches

Like Susan and Karen be doing your pockets

And running the man and he's losing his fucking mind and it’s all an illusion

Who was alludin' all of this potent

I am the reason your family is using and shootin' up, it’s my fault

You can blame me motherfucker, for killin' your aunties and uncles

The hustle and hunger, all I wanted was a cheeseburger

And a little chain tuck, didn’t realize this game fucked, up some lives

“Oh how’s ma?” my conscience eats it up all the time

But other than that I’m fine I got a little money in my pocket.

Nigga, we broke as fuck

Homie got a chop shop I sold that truck

And I sold that dope

Motherfuckers hope this nigga go broke

But like my work I give no fucks, I’m sorry

She could have been a doctor, nigga, I’m sorry

Could have been a actor and won that Oscar, said, I'm sorry

I sold that soap and I killed black folk, I’m sorry

But I got a nice car, put my sister through school

While my momma all cool, I'm sorry

I'm in too deep and I can’t see the shore, I'm sorry

You get addicted to the flip, the transaction, the hustling

We [?] money, it's just your job

You feel like it's your duty to be the man in between the man

And make this happen for that person, to do this and do that

You become the go to guy forever

And next thing you know you’re in too deep, way too deep

Scare the shit out of you, you wind up with so much work

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