When I ain't taking these drugs I get nauseous (Nauseous) Thinking 'bout my dawg gone I get more sick (Throw it off) I be needing love, but I won't force it (Nah) I prefer Wock over red, I got choices
I been like this all my life, guess this shit in my genes I been thinking 'bout my life, gotta get out them beams Too much fentanyl in the street, they putting they cut on pills I lost Shanay to that shit, it still don't feel real Standing over her shaking my head wiping Damiyah tears She taking it the hardest, reminiscing thirteen years Taivo been through this, I had to ask him how you heal Ain't no amount of money gon' change the way I feel This a nightmare, I'm just trapped inside it Momma jump up out the bed every time she hear a siren (Hope it ain't me) No 2-1-9-4s FI 2-3s (What else you need?) That little pink pill put me at top speed (Go)
When I ain't taking these drugs I get nauseous (Nauseous) Thinking 'bout my dawg gone I get more sick (Throw it off) I be needing love, but I won't force it (Nah) I prefer Wock over red, I got choices
Don't know what you is to yo' city, but I run mine Know where you at, watch where you step, don't cross the gun line I like hitting her from behind, she say it's all mine (Ugh) But I can't lay up with you, boo, you know it's crunch time (Go) Spaced out, looking out the window, I just start crying (Why?) Tryna figure out who gave that drop on where my dawg died Wrote that in red, I told them, "Make sure pressure get applied" Every picture I got with you I can't archive I get deep off in my feelings and I can't hide it Let them talk, sit back, be quiet, I never regret my silence I want them to feel how I feel, so I resort to violence No, I can't wife her if the bitch come with high mileage
When I ain't taking these drugs I get nauseous (Nauseous) Thinking 'bout my dawg gone I get more sick (Throw it off) I be needing love, but I won't force it (Nah) I prefer Wock over red, I got choices (Choices)
When I ain't taking these drugs I get nauseous (Nauseous) Thinking 'bout my dawg gone I get more sick (Throw it off) I be needing love, but I won't force it (Nah) I prefer Wock over red, I got choices
Dealing with my problems a lil different
These last 8 to 10 months Is the real reason why shit been going how it's going For example, me still tryna be a super star artist Me tryna please my fans and put music out to the world But at the same time dealing with a real situations Enduring real pain I'm talking 'bout back to back, back to back, back to back One year changed my whole life forever I lost my kids' momma, I had to take them in What man you know doing that for real? At the peak of his career at that Then on top of that I lose my brother to the streets Shit, he had kids, so now it's like his kids' like mine Whenever they call, whenever they need something I come through Most of the times when you dealing with pain you try to cope with it by running to Drank, weed, pills, all that That's 'posed to be medicine, but the whole time it's making me more sick For realTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
