Same story on a different beat The same position I sit in, I didn't lift my feet Some bitch wanna kick it, I gotta hit the streets If I didn't go get it, I guess we didn't eat Back stressin', this dickhead just come evicted me Back stretchin' this coke, sipping this Rikodeine I swear I only write tracks so people get to see that I ain't playing All of these headfucks really get to me I'm still wakin' up sweatin', thinking she's next to me I'm too scared to see friends, I know they think less of me No home, where the fuck would there be a rest for me? I keep on messin' people up, why the fuck they keep lettin' me? Stripper bitches keep coming over on ketamine Then I lay with them, tellin' 'em how my head has been But there's too many things I wish that I'd never seen And never say out loud so I wonder, how could we ever be? Trust issues, the way I can feel the devil's teeth Why don't we talk anymore? You said you'd never leave These cut bricks got me numb, I feel like Lil Peep These debt collectors keep sendin' letters I better read Fuck, I lost so many kilos, swear I never eat I still remember what she said to me, it's settin' me on fire Let me die, just throw me in the cemetery But I'ma do this shit for my kids 'til the day I die Yeah, we hustle 'cause we raw Prayin' that my brother never suffer anymore Homies know I'm nothing but I'm runnin' up the ball Homie, I've been fuckin' crying since my son was never born Homies never call, so I'm burnin' up the fumes Tellin' me I hurt her and it hurt because it's true Devil's got me nervous, got the herbal in my room Baby, I was never perfect but I'm perfect just for you Like, fuck No stressin', we seshin', we in the black Wrangle I got the coppers arrestin' me 'cause we stack dangle And Huskii robbing for profit, we take the black angle Brother got the spirit we bottled and then we Jack Daniel Alleyway and a J, you know we bottle sipping I ain't Michael Jordan, my brothers know I be Scottie Pippen Liquor's pourin', my brothers know since I've gotten millions Demons got me hiding my problems like I be Robin Williams Sea eagle, fuck it, I'd be the manly type See evil, hustlin' for this gram of white I had a wife, she was strugglin' for a chance at life She was suicidal and cuttin' up with a Stanley knife But she be better now So I run it 'cause I'm getting on the double I'm probably on my second ounce Losing health, but I'm wealthy and got a better house Send a letter, I'm sorry, this brother let you down (fuck)
Writer(s): Blake James Turnell, Benjamin Darcy Hayden, Cody H. Rounds Lyrics powered by