Wishin' Death On Me
(Drum Dummie)
And these niggas out here steady wishin death on me
And it's probably cuz they know that I could step on em
NFG I'm seeing red homie
(Fa, Fa)
Long live SK you heard me, look
SME in the motherfucking building, look
Check me
Say I was down bad struggling on my dick looking for a front
Remember days steady tryna hustle just to smoke a blunt
Now I'm grinding I'm tryna shine like a fucking star
So If I tell you that I love you just respect my heart
And If you give a bitch a inch she gon' take it far
So If you give a bitch a pinch she gone want it all
Birkin bags & red bottoms what they chasing for
But I just want some real love that's what I'm waiting for
But fuck committing i don't trust cause everybody fold
Fucking up my brain smoking dope at only 9 years old
Where I'm from we solve our problems ain't no calling troll
I'm Shitting on these niggas I got paper and it's on a roll
I was lacking ambition
But I was born with visions
Of being richer than pippen
Im slurring words off this biscotti
I been on a mission
To give my mama a kitchen
In a mansion that's hidden
So she won't have to worry why
In my city niggas steady wishing death on me
Yeah It's prolly cuz they know that i could step on em'
I ain't trippin Im on my way to living better homie
But I'm from Florida where you gotta keep a weapon on ya
Heart cold so you know I got a sweater on it up
I know how it feels to lose a brother homie
Why Oh does it never get no better
Only God knows how many more is they gon take from me
I couldn't even cry or say good bye when lil Jalah passed
Say death been knocking on my door
Grim reaper on my ass
Say I been tryna keep it hype but I been in my bag
Skrt off in the SRT with Q
120 on the dash
And I don't bang but I'm gon' die bout my respect
If a pussy nigga diss me we gon' slide it ain't no stress
He put three 7s on his neck take off 15 and what you get?
7.62 hollow points
We punching bullets through yo chest boy fuck a vest
Fuck dat triple 7 shit
I'm NFG as fuck
I'll set it off in this bitch
So if it's up it's stuck
Don't give a fuck about no nigga bet not try ya luck
I'll Crash out in this bitch just like I did the truck
Say Mike was jiggin off dem bars and now he scared of death
The grim reaper in his face and he could smell his breath
And all them Niggas think he hard Ill smack him with this left
I got some shit I need to say let's get it off my chest
Boy you a bitch and you know it I don't have to tell you
Whole hoe up in these streets jus like some dope I'll sell you
You don't know I touched some bread I rock that heavy metal
Run up on me if you want bitch you gon meet the devil
You "Da Kid" who be running on them fake straps
You "Da Kid" who be talking like he on that
Say you "Da Kid" pussy nigga you gon shake back
Now you triple 7 something I can't say dat
You heard
And these niggas out here steady wishin death on me
And it's probably cuz they know that I could step on em
NFG I'm seeing red homie
(Fa, Fa)
Long live SK you heard me, look
SME in the motherfucking building, look
Check me
Say I was down bad struggling on my dick looking for a front
Remember days steady tryna hustle just to smoke a blunt
Now I'm grinding I'm tryna shine like a fucking star
So If I tell you that I love you just respect my heart
And If you give a bitch a inch she gon' take it far
So If you give a bitch a pinch she gone want it all
Birkin bags & red bottoms what they chasing for
But I just want some real love that's what I'm waiting for
But fuck committing i don't trust cause everybody fold
Fucking up my brain smoking dope at only 9 years old
Where I'm from we solve our problems ain't no calling troll
I'm Shitting on these niggas I got paper and it's on a roll
I was lacking ambition
But I was born with visions
Of being richer than pippen
Im slurring words off this biscotti
I been on a mission
To give my mama a kitchen
In a mansion that's hidden
So she won't have to worry why
In my city niggas steady wishing death on me
Yeah It's prolly cuz they know that i could step on em'
I ain't trippin Im on my way to living better homie
But I'm from Florida where you gotta keep a weapon on ya
Heart cold so you know I got a sweater on it up
I know how it feels to lose a brother homie
Why Oh does it never get no better
Only God knows how many more is they gon take from me
I couldn't even cry or say good bye when lil Jalah passed
Say death been knocking on my door
Grim reaper on my ass
Say I been tryna keep it hype but I been in my bag
Skrt off in the SRT with Q
120 on the dash
And I don't bang but I'm gon' die bout my respect
If a pussy nigga diss me we gon' slide it ain't no stress
He put three 7s on his neck take off 15 and what you get?
7.62 hollow points
We punching bullets through yo chest boy fuck a vest
Fuck dat triple 7 shit
I'm NFG as fuck
I'll set it off in this bitch
So if it's up it's stuck
Don't give a fuck about no nigga bet not try ya luck
I'll Crash out in this bitch just like I did the truck
Say Mike was jiggin off dem bars and now he scared of death
The grim reaper in his face and he could smell his breath
And all them Niggas think he hard Ill smack him with this left
I got some shit I need to say let's get it off my chest
Boy you a bitch and you know it I don't have to tell you
Whole hoe up in these streets jus like some dope I'll sell you
You don't know I touched some bread I rock that heavy metal
Run up on me if you want bitch you gon meet the devil
You "Da Kid" who be running on them fake straps
You "Da Kid" who be talking like he on that
Say you "Da Kid" pussy nigga you gon shake back
Now you triple 7 something I can't say dat
You heard
Credits
Writer(s): Elijah May
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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