Smile in My Face Then Turn Your Back

Don father in this life. Cigar smoking ruthless. Violence moving slow.

Hydraulics hitting corners while the moonlight drips gold.

Sometimes the snakes sit closest to the throne.

Smiling in your face while sharpening blades behind curtains.

A real Don never folds.

I slid through the city in the candy black fleet. Gold day and spokes while the bass knocks deep.

Sticky burning holes. Room leaning. Mob ties thick. Heavy boss man scheming.

Came from the gutter where the wolves don't sleep.

Now the Don eats lobster while the fakes stay cheap.

Had my day ones switch when the bankroll grew. Started acting strange when the champagne flew.

D O double G swagger with the silk all shine. Mink drags low while the Rolex blinds.

Used to break bread with the homies at the table. Now they whisper snake talk when the throne looks stable.

Backstabbing in the broth. Fake smiles hide hate underneath perfume.

I could see it in their eyes through the smoke filled haze. Jealousy burns hotter than the LA blaze.

Drop it like it's hot when the Don pulls up. Trumpets in the back while the low low jumps.

But betrayal cuts deeper than a 38.

I showed love to the broken and weak. Now them same fools sneak diss all week.

That's cold. But a boss stays calm under pressure.

Real mafioso moves with a loaded neck. Mama told me snakes hiss before they strike.

So I move in silence every gangster night. Counting dirty money while the violence sings.

West Coast Godfather. Yeah the hood knows king.

I survived every setup in life. Watch fake G's switch sides overnight.

But the game taught me this when the envy gets loud. The backstabbing fool never walks with the crowd.

Smile in my face then they turn their back. Oh that burns. I remember that.

Cigar smoke flows while the old horns cry. Real Dons stand tall. Fake soldiers die.

Everybody loyal when the pocket is fat. Till the lights go dim and the snakes react.

I just ride through the storm real slow.

Late night meeting at the round table spot. Italian leather chairs. Champagne on ice.

Trumpets hum low like a funeral tone. Moonlight spills silver all across the room.

The Don got wisdom from the pain and scars. From county jail cells to exotic cars.

Now the parlays move smooth in designer suits while the fake get exposed when the pressure shoots.

Never trust a smile with a jealous heart. That's how empires crumble and families part.

One homie switched up for a little quick gain. Now he's lost with no respect on his name in the streets.

Still I watch every move. From the church to the clubs to the private estates.

Boss talk. Only when the Don steps through. Gold Cuban links swing with the fresh out suits.

I kept it solid while they plotted revenge. Still fed the block and looked out for friends.

But some people hate peace when your life too fly. Can't stand watching real legends survive.

So I cruise real slow through the boulevard rain. Violin strings echo my heartbreak pain.

Low rider lean while the city lights drip. Chrome shines bright on the wood grain grip.

Funny how betrayal reveals true colors. Sometimes your day one is a snake undercover.

But a Don stays calm with the game in control. Can't break a king with a platinum soul.

From block beast dreams to the penthouse view. Still repping for the real ones. Stay true.

When you cross the line then it's curtains. Backstabbers vanish when the Don father comes.

Close the doors.

Everybody at this table has to choose sides tonight.

No more halfway loyalty.

If you ride with the Don, ride forever. If not, exit quietly before the wolves wake up.

Backstabbers smile in my face then they turn their back. I remember that.

Cigar smoke flows while the old horns cry. Real Dons stand tall. Fake soldiers die.

Everybody loyal when the pocket's fat till the lights go dim and the snakes react.