Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Michael Bruce Graham Jr
Michael Bruce Graham Jr
Lyrics
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Tyson Kelly
Tyson Kelly
Producer
SLY
SLY
Producer

Lyrics

Lord can you hear me call your name
Lord can hear me call your name
Name
Call your name
Oh Lord
I ain't good but I been better
And you won't treat me like whoever
Lately I been on that road
Hit my phone
They know it's 10K for a show
Check yo trauma & yo ego at the door
Ain't bringing in no more
Shorty quick to sling a blade
No Figuerro
Say she love me
But don't know where her love go
Why yo words don't match yo actions?
Tweeting but you lying in captions
Them shorties round you, faker than yo lashes
Baby why you acting?
When we grown
I gave you my rib
She gave me a Wishbone
How you say you love me
But don't wanna be my peace?
How you always say you miss me
But don't feel it till I leave?
I could charge em for these lessons
Smith & Wesson
Imma teach
She be praying on them candles
But be lying through her teeth
Baby why you playing games?
Like we grown
Had to cut her off
Had to change my new phone
Know they see my hunger
I ain't starving
Clip on me no Harden
Know I keep some rakes
There ain't no snakes inside my garden
Baby why you cappin?
Like we grown
I gave her my rib
Shorty was a Wishbone
Calling on yo name
Give me the fame
She could rock my heart
But she could never rock my chain
Baby why you cappin?
Like we grown
I gave her my rib
Shorty was a Wishbone
Calling on yo name
Give me the fame
They could know my heart
But they'll never know my pain
I won't fly as fuck in school
I had them hand me downs no cap
If I'm tryna drop them draws
Drop her in name in all my raps
Treat my left hand like her necklace
No surprise she running back
Treat my right hand like the booth
The way I'm pulling on her tracks
This ain't off white
I leave them jaws tight
Put this stick inside my heater
We give **** frostbite
Bro I came up from all that poor shit
Might whip a Porsche, shit
She think touching on my Glock
No bae I'm slanging horse dick
I think she fine
Gorgeous
What's yo sign?
Taurus
Let me beat it till the morning
Kissing on her eye of Horus
Call her cash cause she C.R.E.A.M
You cash cause **** green
All it take is one phone call
I'll have her slipping out her jeans
I duck them calls I'm too legit
I'm dope
I'm serving hits
She say how you celibate?, boy all them labels on yo dick
I duck them calls I'm too legit
I'm dope
I'm serving hits
She say how you celibate?, boy all them labels on yo dick
Lately I been on that road
Hit my phone
They know it's 10K for a show
Check yo trauma & yo ego at the door
Ain't bringing in no more
Shorty quick to sling a blade
No Figuerro
Say she love me
But don't know where her love go
Why yo words don't match yo actions
Tweeting but you lying in captions
Them shorties round you, faker than yo lashes
Baby why you acting
When we grown
I gave you my rib
She gave me a wishbone
Baby why you cappin?
Like we grown
I gave her my rib
Shorty was a Wishbone
Can you hear me call your name
Like we grown
I gave her my rib
Shorty was a Wishbone
I gave her my rib
Shorty was a Wishbone
Written by: Michael Bruce Graham Jr
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