Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
ShooterGang Kony
ShooterGang Kony
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
christian allen thomas
christian allen thomas
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Chris O'Bannon
Chris O'Bannon
Producer

Lyrics

I like it
I was gassing?
Alright
Look, pride, that's an evil thing
Quit that yellin' in my face
You the type that wanna buy when I'm selling dreams
Get mad at the dream when I was selling it to them
We a team, that ain't something that you intervene
And she my queen, only problem is she sting a lot
And I don't keep an open heart because I bleed a lot
Goes to show, that's the reason why I keep a Glock
I need a love and thought that I would find it tryna sleep her out
Cold game, baby, wipe your nose 'cause it's running
Every time I turn around, you think a **** up to something
I told you I was tired, must've thought that I was bluffing
Yeah, temptation is a bitch, but do I look like David Ruffin, dawg?
Since you treat me like I'm nothin', I'll be somethin', dawg
Ridin' in the foreign, why you doubtin'? Wanna touch it, dawg?
Had a lil' money buy y'all problems made me fuck it off
You can't stand the fact that everybody wanna fuck me, dawg?
I prayed you'd be a better person
You ain't have to bring a **** down with you 'cause you really hurting
Cherish every day with you 'cause the feds lurking
Working hard, you don't even call it working
You just think I sit back, waiting on these curtains
I'm dying in my heart, bitch, you think that I'm out flirting
I love you lil' Bray 'cause you keep my world turning
When I found true love, I figured every bitch purping
Every bitch hurting, yeah, all these bitches hurting
I don't need your pussy, bitch, I'd rather use the Jergens
Dirty ass skank, here, I bought you some detergent
See you ridin' with a sucker, then I'm flippin' the Suburban, ****
This love ain't nothin' to die 'bout
Your love ain't nothin' to cry 'bout
My heart broke, you just watched blood dry out
I'm still in these streets, these **** ain't made tryouts
You bleed, I bleed
No gas, both tanks on E
Made it clear you could count on me
Every round on me
I got burned to the first degree
Someone said they won't love me for free
What's plan B? Look
Written by: christian allen thomas
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