True Colors

They said I wasn't gon make it
They talked behind my back but when I came around the block niggas started hiding faces
I'm focus with no patience the finish line is mines got the trophy in my hand
Why the fuck you niggas hate me
Mad cause I'm fuck they bitches down in a basement
Sad cause we murdering niggas wit open cases
I just like connecting my numbers like I'm the matrix
All my bitched bad I ain't fuckin if she can't take dick
All about the money im talkin them color faces
Popping cold bottles I'm talking them club aces
Yeah
I'm in the field wit my Haitians
An you ain't got no money don't order we ain't gon place it
High rise loft in the city got many places
Move like a ghost ain't no tracking u couldn't trace me
Hoes can't resist wanna fuck me they wanna taste it
Heard you niggas wanted to kill me I just erased him
Yeah
I got that acid in my bloodline
Always on a mission got them killas all on the front line
How u ridin wit me try to set me up the whole time
I ain't got no spirit lost it all when my soul cried
Gave u all my trust I was slipping gave u the whole nine
Distracted from the shit u was kickin an I was so blind
Shared the same pain even made it cross the borderline
I made you get yours before I even tried to get mines
Never left you out how the fuck u turned ya back
I been downing heavy bottles running through them packs a blacks
Separated was a must I started thinking I was tripping
Whole time I fed the streets you niggas try to catch me slipping
I'm the fake friend



Credits
Writer(s): Raphael Grant
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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