Depression

They said Lil Draco you wont be shit
They said im jumping in the streets
Aint never seen shit
Keep on yappin i could really get you gone
Up on some G shit
My heart on ice I keep a fire
Like im anemic

They took my potna in for murder
In the first degree
Im blowing up lil bitch
Dont act like you aint heard of me
He bumped his gums
We made them rush him into surgery
And send me all action i catch bodies
Like im 23

Yall niggas tried to make a fool of me
Aye you a bitch now wear these bullets
Like some jewelry
Y'all niggas hating
Most of my opps had went to school wit me
Im really out here we get active
This aint new to me

We leave holes inside yo face
It look like dimples
You just a hoe got passed around
Just like some skittles
We caught him lackin
Made him drop just like a pickle
Freaky bitch like throwing ass
I watch it jiggle

Catching all these bodies
Cloud my mind just like depression
Playing with the wrong one
You dont know bout who you testing
Fold you up and we gon run yo pockets
For that flexing
Put him in some wings and send him
Straight up to the Jetsons
Mix em up like CP3
Im shooting like im Devin

Catching all these bodies
Cloud my mind just like depression
Playing with the wrong one
You dont know bout who you testing
Fold you up and we gon run yo pockets
For that flexing
Put him in some wings and send him
Straight up to the Jetsons

Ian mean to cause no trouble
She like the dick im in her mouth
Just like some ruffles
New opp pack get smoked quick
Its smoking like some truffles
And we can ditch the guns
Im always down to do a scuffle

All he heard was got em
Shot em while he walking
He kept begging me for smoke
Well this shit got him coughing
Lil niggas talk a lil too reckless
TIme to pick a coffin
D4R Die for repect
Said that while pistols poppin

Catching all these bodies
Cloud my mind just like depression
Playing with the wrong one
You dont know bout who you testing
Fold you up and we gon run yo pockets
For that flexing
Put him in some wings and send him
Straight up to the Jetsons
Mix em up like CP3
Im shooting like im Devin

Catching all these bodies
Cloud my mind just like depression
Playing with the wrong one
You dont know bout who you testing
Fold you up and we gon run yo pockets
For that flexing
Put him in some wings and send him
Straight up to the Jetsons

Send em up
Get em gone
Post Malone
Steppin out on stage smelling like
Weed and Cologne



Credits
Writer(s): Michael Anthony Smith
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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