Mad Mad

Trippin off of nothing I ain't with you that's why you mad
I ain't tell nobody that I'm here and I don't feel bad
Bet you they gone feel some type of way when I leave they mad
Used to want her now she want what she could've had

Tired of wearing masks from this 'rona can't breathe like that
Really I'm just worried bout myself it should be like that
Heard you caught a body but you don't even run like that
Heard you chasing bags how you know what's inside of that

Fifteen hunned still counting I want some more
Lost 750 to the game I charged it back
10K jumping out the jet not talking lag
Save all the dough for the oven I'm making bags

6 years later out the Army I move to Tex
Really I'm just thinking bout a wife who gone make me better
Understand I'm really bout that life it don't make me better
Understand I'm quick to go Jesus He make me better

I got things make Em drop cleaning up with that mop
Got a drum and a stick see these devils get shot
I got God on my side while I air the whole block
You get shot, you get hit, you get dropped, issa bop

When my brothers get with me it sound like we thumping
We turn up that bass go to war it get jumping
I don't worship gods except Jesus I'm boojee
I put on my armor I tuck and i shoot it

I get mad when I hear that my mother sad
I get mad at myself when I'm doing bad
I don't like a lot of people they get me mad
I can't stand a lot of things I'll sit instead

I get mad when I hear that my mother sad
I get mad at myself when I'm doing bad
I don't like a lot of people they get me mad
I can't stand a lot of things I'll sit instead



Credits
Writer(s): Michai Wharton
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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