Fifteen

Them good old days you ain't care If I'm rich or broke
We can do them movies baby you coppin' that ticket though
I ain't tryna watch the movie but I get my dick licked though
Your mom gone pick us up at 6? Nice to meet you Mrs Rose
Drop me off on the corner, on Southfield and it's swarming
If the street lights ain't on, then I'll check the floor and
We on the porch and were she grew up in North and we both had white Moms
She left you for some money though, mine love me though
Uh, fucked the convo up now I'm walking home alone
On my pre paid phone, had us all keep Jo's
Call my Brooklyn ho
Tell her send some pictures I'll be In Detroit till Christmas
Send me some Nudes huh, said I know you miss this awww

Byyitch, Byyitch
Yeah It's good enough, Know you miss me though
I'm only Fifteen so yeah
Uhhhhhh yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah

Young and fucked up, young and fucked up
Young and fucked up, young and fucked up Fifteen hustlin' faking sick taking rope and tussin'
Mobbin' through the hood like all you people owe us suttin'
Frontin' on them moguls Jay Jay on the back
Stuntin' drove fast, crashed that broke Jay Jay's fucking leg (dayum)
W-w-west side, grew there
Across the street like who there
Red bowl and pyjamas I'm like, 'Winnie the Pooh' bear
Approach her like I'm new here
She told me I got good hair
We did it in the garage that night was too rare
Now I'm too scared
Cos her pops find out
Deuce deuce in the bag and he might find out
That I'm young and I'm dumb and I might just show up
And If shit pop off the shit unloaded out, smooth
Huh, fuck you want me to do fresh ones
All T's can afford J's yeah but these fake gold chains gonna break necks
Pop a sin in this latex, yeah

All rap shit nigga
Gold chain real though man
You gone use this tonight, 19 carat
No monkey chain bruh
Uhhhhhh yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah



Credits
Writer(s): El-mahdi Ahmed, Amir Obeid Ahmed
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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