Album on Thank God

Track 12 on Thank God
Can’t Forgive Lyrics
[Verse]
I need to get shit right with God before I reach my peak
My new truck can’t be peeped, too much workin’ in these streets
And I always tell myself, “Can’t fail, got too many people who need me”
And I always told myself, “Xho, you gon’ ball just like leukemia”
On my twin, no Austin Powers
Locked in, tryna work on my album
In jail like twenty-four hours
Niggas get stabbed, they don’t take showers
And my opps hate goin to jail, when they get there, it’s blood showers
And when R had got locked up, he kept shit silent
before he beat shit, that’s my brother
Free Hunt, nigga die, he touch him
I survived the motion
I’d be wrong, they tell ’em that I’m proud of buddy
And I’m still a felon, can’t get booked out country
And I’m still prevailing, can’t fuck up my motion
When I slide, it’s backseat Jeep
I know I’ll ride when it’s beef
I still’ll load and get ’em gone,
I don’t just make songs about this beef
Yeah, they talking ’bout the shit at the
store when I dropped me a nigga like, “Who can’t hit?”
Or you talking ’bout the nigga I spinned
right down in that hour when he tried lil’ Chris?
Or you talking ’bout when bruh got popped,
but your boy got dropped? You ain’t talkin’ ’bout shit
Try to slide on me, hear, “Frrt,”
I put a fully on all my blick
If you fuck with the gang, then— brrr,
lil nigga, all y’all hoes gettin’ hit
Yeah, workin’, I’ve been on the road,
I don’t ever be in none of these niggas’ mix
Pull up on these niggas’ block,
two hundred shots, we need us a movie
Don’t even be with they clique,
these niggas hop, these niggas groupies
Never put gun in the bag,
it’s in my hand, boy, I ain’t stupid
Tryna go slide on they block,
I lost a car, hop in an Ubey
Who not him? How a bitch gon’ tell me who I am?
Shoot at them, soon I send ’em up, I do my dance
They drop diss, spin in twenty minutes,
who be playin’?
I don’t like your big homie,
I washed him out, now you the man
On God, yeah, this shit get bloody,
but this ain’t bloody, this shit personal
This shit get Bloody, I’m talkin’
’bout Sex, Money, and Murder
And tell your boyfriend, “Watch your mouth,”
I said I’d murder him, on Blood
He talkin’ ’bout he do what and he from where?
I ain’t heard of him, on Blood
All that cryin’ with shit, nigga
Ain’t no tryin’ this shit, nigga
Niggas die ’bout this shit, nigga
It ain’t nothin’ to drop six figures
I’m a real Zone Six nigga
I know you ain’t on shit, nigga
And I know he ain’t on shit either
Your ho still gon’ fuck, I kill you, she an eater
Plus I ain’t livin’ with my bitch, I don’t need shit
Niggas who love beefin’ with Xho ain’t gon’ be shit
But some deceased shit, on some BIP shit (On God)