Songtexte

Man, I see a lot of these niggas Lookin' to the streets for, um, clarification Like to be glorified or some shit You know what I'm saying? You can't get shit out these streets, bro A bullet, you know what I'm saying A fucking case, other than that, man This shit ain't 'bout nothin' man, I'm tellin' you I ain't put in work in these streets just to get killed by 'em Plug call with a whole thing, you know I still buy 'em I told my girl I'm faithful, but a nigga still lyin' And I know the shit still wrong, tell me why it feel right (ayy) Money got a little mold on it, but it still spend (oh) That money gon' let you know 'bout who your real friends (yo) And, yeah, I talk to God, but bae, I still sin (ooh) And I ain't went nowhere, lil' bae, I'm still here, yeah Made a sacrifice so I can live this way Tried to give up lean, but it don't feel the same Hard to stop doing something that kill the pain My umbrella got holes, so I feel the rain Done bought this big-ass house, but yet, I'm still hood Flexing on less fortunate don't feel good Doc said, "Stop popping Percs," but I still do it And I just popped a 30 'fore I went in on this verse And the judge gave him 30 when ain't nobody get hurt If I come through your club, then ain't nobody getting searched And they can't find my gun, 'cause I put it in her purse These streets don't love nobody, and I had to learn that first I ain't put in work in these streets just to get killed by 'em Plug call with a whole thing, you know I still buy 'em I told my girl I'm faithful, but a nigga still lyin' And I know the shit still wrong, tell me why it feel right (ayy) Money got a little mold on it, but it still spend (oh) That money gon' let you know 'bout who your real friends (yo) And, yeah, I talk to God, but bae, I still sin (ooh) And I ain't went nowhere, lil' bae, I'm still here, yeah Hard to love again 'cause I can't trust a soul Niggas looking iffy so I clutch the pole Family and money who I love the most But like, you can't let that shit (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) Like fuck with your spirit Pull up on my street just like the hood owe me Whip that Bentley through the streets 'cause it's a Hood trophy Made a deal with the devil, yeah, we shook on it And don't never judge no book 'bout how it look, homie And I know they wondering 'bout how I still do it Liquor and them Percocets don't feel good You know I got a pistol, I'm in your venue And I'm glad I don't look like what I been through I ain't put in work in these streets just to get killed by 'em Plug call with a whole thing, you know I still buy 'em I told my girl I'm faithful, but a nigga still lyin' And I know the shit still wrong but tell me why it feel right (ayy) Money got a little mold on it, but it still spend (oh) That money gon' let you know 'bout who your real friends (yo) And, yeah, I talk to God, but bae, I still sin (ooh) And I ain't went nowhere, lil' bae, I'm still here, yeah Enough of that shit, man You know what I'm sayin' Fade the shit out, cut my mic off
Writer(s): Sam Claassen, Devontay Dequantes, Martin Minor Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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