GRAY TIL I DIE (feat. Pella daGoat)
North, fucking side, bitches, it's gray till I die
Gotta keep a burner on me, I got murder on my mind
You know it's North, fucking side, bitches, it's gray till I die
Gotta keep a burner on me, I got murder on my mind
Aye, it's that R-O-M-E-G-E-O-R-G-I-A, that's where I'm from
You can catch me on the south side of Lindale down in them slums
And it's gray flags with these body bags, I give these bitches a run
Yeah, you know that I'm gon' kill the scene, it's all gon' be red rum
Fuck it, boy, hey, try me up and if You Live, you gon' be lucky, boy
Aye, I'ma size you up and give your ass something to remember when I get back again
My heart be cold like the end of December, yeah, tell your friends
Aye, matter of fact, I'm goin' to jail again, nah, I ain't ever goin' back to hell again
Nah, I don't smell ya, man, but I ain't with all them dog pounds, I can't tell you nun
Aye, fuck it, boy, you know I be with the ghosts, and that's why I keep my face pale
Y'all talk the most, but y'all gotta hit that state cell
Cause y'all motherfuckers would probably go sit on the stand
While I be standing on my seven, and whack a bitch on demand, it's G Seven
North, fucking side, bitches, it's gray till I die
Gotta keep a burner on me, I got murder on my mind
You know it's north, fucking side, bitches, it's gray till I die
Gotta keep a burner on me, I got murder on my mind
This that G-E-O-R-G-I-A, Bellwood Heights, is where I stay
They got stacks on deck, no one to fade, that's
U-P-T, shit, choppa play
Boy C Town, the hardest, we shoot regardless
Put a red dot on your white tee, bitch, you a mascot for Target
If you want it, gone and start it, we see more beef than Arby's
I ain't never tucked my tail, I showed up on your porch, retarded
Loco, juedo, chasing pesos, my boy Pedro got that payload
On the way from Cross the Border, It gon' come through in a quarter
Don't text me bout the order, call me once and I'll call back
She not my child, I can't support her, I was raised on Project Pat
I ain't dating hoes or saving hoes and I ain't paying for no pussy
Don't get pushy, cause you coming incorrect, will get you smoked like this Kushy, bitch
This shit too easy, bitch, believe me, ain't no question why we winning
Ain't no questions if you listened, if they didn't, fuck em, spin em
I can't fake it or pretend it, bitch, I always been authentic, call me Pella daGoat
Lil' cracker, cold as fuck, just like Christmas, bitch
North, fucking side, bitches, it's gray till I die
Gotta keep a burner on me, I got murder on my mind
You know it's north, fucking side, bitches, it's gray till I die
Gotta keep a burner on me, I got murder on my mind
Cwa to the mother fucking grave, sixteen six lmf, pale face shit, y'all know what the fuck going on,
No love straight hate, this shits real that shits fake, real pale face riders shit
Gotta keep a burner on me, I got murder on my mind
You know it's North, fucking side, bitches, it's gray till I die
Gotta keep a burner on me, I got murder on my mind
Aye, it's that R-O-M-E-G-E-O-R-G-I-A, that's where I'm from
You can catch me on the south side of Lindale down in them slums
And it's gray flags with these body bags, I give these bitches a run
Yeah, you know that I'm gon' kill the scene, it's all gon' be red rum
Fuck it, boy, hey, try me up and if You Live, you gon' be lucky, boy
Aye, I'ma size you up and give your ass something to remember when I get back again
My heart be cold like the end of December, yeah, tell your friends
Aye, matter of fact, I'm goin' to jail again, nah, I ain't ever goin' back to hell again
Nah, I don't smell ya, man, but I ain't with all them dog pounds, I can't tell you nun
Aye, fuck it, boy, you know I be with the ghosts, and that's why I keep my face pale
Y'all talk the most, but y'all gotta hit that state cell
Cause y'all motherfuckers would probably go sit on the stand
While I be standing on my seven, and whack a bitch on demand, it's G Seven
North, fucking side, bitches, it's gray till I die
Gotta keep a burner on me, I got murder on my mind
You know it's north, fucking side, bitches, it's gray till I die
Gotta keep a burner on me, I got murder on my mind
This that G-E-O-R-G-I-A, Bellwood Heights, is where I stay
They got stacks on deck, no one to fade, that's
U-P-T, shit, choppa play
Boy C Town, the hardest, we shoot regardless
Put a red dot on your white tee, bitch, you a mascot for Target
If you want it, gone and start it, we see more beef than Arby's
I ain't never tucked my tail, I showed up on your porch, retarded
Loco, juedo, chasing pesos, my boy Pedro got that payload
On the way from Cross the Border, It gon' come through in a quarter
Don't text me bout the order, call me once and I'll call back
She not my child, I can't support her, I was raised on Project Pat
I ain't dating hoes or saving hoes and I ain't paying for no pussy
Don't get pushy, cause you coming incorrect, will get you smoked like this Kushy, bitch
This shit too easy, bitch, believe me, ain't no question why we winning
Ain't no questions if you listened, if they didn't, fuck em, spin em
I can't fake it or pretend it, bitch, I always been authentic, call me Pella daGoat
Lil' cracker, cold as fuck, just like Christmas, bitch
North, fucking side, bitches, it's gray till I die
Gotta keep a burner on me, I got murder on my mind
You know it's north, fucking side, bitches, it's gray till I die
Gotta keep a burner on me, I got murder on my mind
Cwa to the mother fucking grave, sixteen six lmf, pale face shit, y'all know what the fuck going on,
No love straight hate, this shits real that shits fake, real pale face riders shit
Credits
Writer(s): Justin Greene, Scotty Venable
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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