[Chorus: Cordae] Conversations gettin' complicated, I could tell ya, uh Fifteen, was in them handcuffs with paraphernalia I grew up in them trenches, boy, your house had wine cellar If anybody ever had a problem, gave 'em hell I got my auntie, brothers, daddy, cousin backstage passes Everybody celebratin' with they champagne glasses I'm just sittin' full of pain as I'm tourin' the country Thought the stress-free life was gon' come with the money (Uh)
[Verse 1: Cordae] I got my head up in the clouds livin' off daydreamin' Still high up off of life, I know my light ray beamin' Got up out river, nigga, now I'm straight mainstreamin' Flowin' heavy, 'member uncle drove a Chevy on his wrist Was a stolen Rollie Presi', couldn't tell him shit Arrogance is deadly, in the moment, damn, he relished it Matchin' chain, embellished it, drug dealer dreams with prison nightmares Was type rare, and if the shoe fits, I'll buy the right pair But shit be gettin' worser by the second, I'm guessin' Put a smile up on my face 'cause life is all 'bout perception Tell my niggas that I'm happy, happiness manifestin' Even though it's quite the opposite, but shit, I'm digressin', okay
[Chorus: Cordae & Freddie Gibbs] Conversations gettin' complicated, I could tell ya, uh Fifteen, was in them handcuffs with paraphernalia I grew up in them trenches, boy, your house had wine cellar If anybody ever had a problem, gave 'em hell I got my auntie, brothers, daddy, cousin backstage passes Everybody celebratin' with they champagne glasses I'm just sittin' full of pain as I'm tourin' the country (Big Rabbit) Thought the stress-free life was gon' come with the money (Yeah)
[Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs] Conversations gettin' complicated, investigated now (Yeah, yeah) You can't shit on me, you pussy niggas is constipated now (Know what?) Big VL for life, the biggest rabbit in the nation now (Yeah, yeah) You can't shit on me, you pussy niggas is constipated now (Ugh) Niggas can't shit on me, piss the set, trip on me (Nah) Play me like I'm pussy and once you in her, I burn like syphilis, G Youngin did a bid for me, I'ma slide for him 'cause he slid for me Know that you feelin' this gangsta shit, I can feel it all up in your energy (Yeah, yeah) Got her pregnant once, I gave her backstage passes Ride with that dirty, I know my shit dirty, I'd rather get caught than get blasted Crackers don't understand nothin', can never, they treat us like cargo, they stashed us I just sit back and get high and I just think 'bout how long this rap shit gon' last us (Oh, yeah, yeah)
[Chorus: Cordae] Conversations gettin' complicated, I could tell ya, uh Fifteen, was in them handcuffs with paraphernalia I grew up in them trenches, boy, your house had wine cellar If anybody ever had a problem, gave 'em hell I got my auntie, brothers, daddy, cousin backstage passes Everybody celebratin' with they champagne glasses I'm just sittin' full of pain as I'm tourin' the country Thought the stress-free life was gon' come with the money, you know
[Harmonica Solo: Stevie Wonder]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
