(Damn, 3, you tweakin' with this one)
(Ditty, we 'bout to be rich, baby)
Uh-uh, yeah-yeah, uh, yeah, uh-uh
Yeah, uh-uh, yeah, uh-uh, oh-oh-oh
My mind lost from all them early lies
My killers took a loss again, it hurt, we cried
TimTim was next up in them trenches, so it hurt he died
Might shoot my Glock until it's finished, 'til I'm thirty-five
Uh, yeah, some things never change
Cut off all that dead weight, now we a better gang
We kept Buffs and pimps just when that pressure came
When I'm down and out, wonder who left to blame
How I'm 'posed to play my part when I don't know what's comin'
All that shit was on your heart, but you ain't tell me nothin'
He ain't never let it spark, I can tell he frontin'
With my demons in the dark, tellin' hell we comin'
Come bump with us, bunch of young killers, really dumb niggas
Mouth shot, nina tongue kiss ya, tell 'em, "Come get ya"
Party after party, now I love liquor
Don't tell me 'bout him, I'm sorry, ain't no thug realer
My mind lost from all them early lies
My killers took a loss again, it hurt, we cried
TimTim was next up in them trenches, so it hurt he died
Might shoot my Glock until it's finished, 'til I'm thirty-five
Uh, yeah, some things never change (Damn, 3, you tweakin' with this one)
Cut off all that dead weight, now we a better gang
We kept Buffs and pimps just when that pressure came (Ditty, we 'bout to be rich, baby)
When I'm down and out, wonder who left to blame
Been years since my last hit, like where the fuck your ass been?
So much time been passin', I cannot be a has-been
It was die or get rich, but that was in the past-tense
Make 'em eat clip quick, I don't care if he fastin'
Bitch, the money callin' us, I'm on the phone, actually
I hit the booth advance, so honest what them songs gotta be
Rather leave it in the streets, ain't got no known rapper beef
Let's get it on, pack your heat, my shorties Chrome clap for weeks
If it's up, we blitz, it's just a simple understandin'
We'll bounce out in Rick and leave a nigga on the canvas
Nina love to top a nigga off, this bitch so manish
Wanna be with his brother, switch let it off, your wish is granted
My mind lost from all them early lies
My killers took a loss again, it hurt, we cried
TimTim was next up in them trenches, so it hurt he died
Might shoot my Glock until it's finished, 'til I'm thirty-five
Uh, yeah, some things never change
Cut off all that dead weight, now we a better gang
We kept Buffs and pimps just when that pressure came
When I'm down and out, wonder who left to blame
(Damn, 3, you tweakin' with this one)
(Ditty, we 'bout to be rich, baby)
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
