Venting

Put the fuccino on the grind
Gotta just get some shit off my chest, for real
I'm just vetting on the gang, nigga
Never needed a bitch, never needed one. Winter time, grind shit I

Gotta feed my son, real manifestor Think about it, I'ma get it done
Niggas want smoke shit, I inhale it my lungs
Just got a drum, why the fuck would I be scared of you niggas
Don't take care of your child, man, I'm scared of you niggas

Don't take care of your bitch, but you hangin' with them niggas
Ain't bout shit, pussy get killed quick
Playin' in the streets, get your life took
I'm goin' straight in, nigga, I don't even gotta write a hook

All this shit I been through, nigga, I should write a book
Take a nigga life, zero fucks, nigga, I'm Westbrook
Money comin' in legit, nigga, I don't even got to jug
Niggas thinkin' that they bosses, nigga u ain't even got pull

Word around town, nigga, you ain't even from the hood
Pack that pussy, nigga, up, put that nigga in the wood
Put that nigga in the wood, my niggas don't go for that
Statements comin' out, that nigga singing like Doja Cat

Man, I hate a rat, why can't you fuck niggas, die
Why the real die young, gotta ask my lord why
Roll a Op up, fuck it and put the wood in the sky
Tomorrow's never, promised shit I'm just happy we alive

Cause I could be dead like them fuck niggas
Last nigga crossed me, so I can't trust niggas
Niggas dissin' on the gram, so what's up with us
This ain't just for the net, we gon' get up with you

Chillin' with a opp, I hope a fuckin' slug hit you
Give it a couple months, niggas gon' forget they miss you
Ready for war, need AKs and fuckin' pistols
Hop in a tank, blow his crib up with missiles

Wipe a nigga nose, cuddy go, get the tissue
Niggas can't find no motion, so them niggas diss you
Naw for real
Niggas lame as hell, naw for real



Credits
Writer(s): Thomas Bohler
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link