Pain Inside Of Me

She say she want a real street nigga, who for sure gon' keep it G
Know you ain't really been hurt 'less you felt what's inside of me
Walked by the store in my black Forces, cargo pants, and all-white tee
The fact I got it out the mud might be the reason I sip lean

Think 'bout the chances that I took, it could've sent me to the pen
I thought 'bout Scooter on this hook
This off the head, I ain't need no pen
I taught the topic of the book, stay out the way, run up some bands
Reason my pockets super full, count your finesse, finesse, finesse

Finesse, finesse, finessed by a finesser
Nobody safe, they ever play, they gon' get put up on that stretcher
We catch an opp, we up the score, that glizzy sound like a Beretta
That ain't no cap, my life a movie, bitch, and I ain't got no director
Post in the trap, got Glocks, got Uzis
Got anything that's bound to wet 'em
I always tote that 30-30, bitch, you know I fuck with FNs
Finesse, finesse, count captain jugg
Bitch, I learned that from Young Jefe
Lil' lil' one, he the biggest flexer, Quando, hold on, what you doing

She say she want a real street nigga who for sure gon' keep it G
Know you ain't really been hurt 'less you felt what's inside of me
Walked by the store in my black Forces, cargo pants, and all-white tee
The fact I got it out the mud might be the reason I sip lean

Think 'bout the chances that I took, it could've sent me to the pen
I thought 'bout Scooter on this hook
This off the head, I ain't need no pen
I taught the topic of the book, stay out the way, run up some bands
Reason my pockets super full, count your finesse, finesse, finesse



Credits
Writer(s): Tyquian Bowman, Miguel Flores Curtidor, Liam Mcalister
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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