Wraith

Young sinner mane with a cash cow brain
Stacked up gwap 'til I get up on my pain
Dad died at 15, I ain't been the same
In a trap house 'til I died in it mane
Bitch wanna cut 'til I cut everything
She won't my main, but I take her to the bank
So she got that money for the pills and all the drank
Whenever I die, throw my body in a rave

Doing this shit right 'til I get my momma paid
I'ma give it back to my fam 'til I fade
Pig cars in the back why my momma prayed
If they ever find me, I'ma take 'em on a race
Never keeping up, bitch, better find pace
If you got a problem, better say it to my face
If he tryna rap, I bet he better be brave
Buried in a house when I'm dead, not a grave

Kaso going ghost but I better be prayed
Up so my soul never ever really age
I'ma go back to the places that I hate
Just to show 'em all I could pull up in a Wraith (ah, yeah, what? Bitch, fuck)

I record when that night is dark
And my shadow tall, if she call my phone
Leave my voice on mute, bitch, my diamonds talk
All these rappers flawed, I will crack that jaw
Let that FN spark, turn your fucking throat
Into applesauce on that winter even evening
And my skull got pain, bitch, my shit is bleak
And I love that rain, it's that Beamon season

I got snow on my corpse, I got flame on my body
I got loved ones that have left me, taking everything about me
My nightmares fall, my dreams turn to solids
Pussy boy, you got opinions, I don't give a fuck about it

Bitch, I'm falling like the wind
Bitch, I flow just like the mountains
And your shit ain't ever bumping
I don't give a fuck about it

Bitch, I'm falling like the wind
Bitch, I flow just like the mountains
Pussy boy you got opinions
I don't give a fuck about it

Bitch, I'm falling like the wind
Bitch, I flow just like the mountains
Pussy boy you got opinions
I don't give a fuck about it, bitch
Aye!
Nigga!

Brain feels split, I don't really feel shit
Homie brought a bitch, I would rather flip brick
DM to your DM saying that I'm really lit
I don't see 'em, but I bleed 'em 'cause I'm rolling with them pricks
And we finna take his shit, sounding like we finna dip
'Til we shoot him in his shit, see him puking on his whip
Last time I came through Colorado ripped
I been feeling heavy 'til I take a hundred hits



Credits
Writer(s): Hew Rader
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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