Слушать песню на Яндекс Музыке A Boogie Wit da Hoodie — Blood On My Denim

Текст пенси A Boogie Wit da Hoodie — Blood On My Denim

(It’s JoeFromYo)

I thought every girl I had was the one (uh-huh), but she was not it
99 percent of bitches be thottin’ (thottin’)
If I do the same thing, you’d say I’m not shit (not shit)
I could do the same thing and leave you cryin’ (cryin’)

She got a little deeper through the process (process)
Still addicted to the streets, can’t hide it (hide it)
Walk around with two Glizzy’s in my pocket (pocket)
I really cocked it, flip a nigga like a socket (socket)

Nigga, way before the fame we was wildin’
Then they killed my nigga Quado from the projects (projects)
And it’s a shame, all the bitches that was curvin’
I see the same damn names in my comments (comments)

She was lookin’ O.D. from her side eyes
Say she ain’t an eater, oh she lied, oh she lied-lied
Woke up to three bitches in my bed
Made me say it three times, «Oh you fine, oh you fine-fine»
I ain’t rockin’ with no ho’ niggas or bozo
That’s a no-no, nigga nah, nah
I know they know my flaws, the way I rock Dolce and Gabbana

I lost my niggas to the streets when it coulda been me
It’s fucked up, they either dead or doin’ Fed time
Boy, you all about your bread, so am I
If it’s money on your mind, .45 to your hairline
And I keep it by the dresser
That’s for any bitch who ever tried to break my heart, I won’t let ya
Still got blood on my denims
That was all the blood that was in ’em, no more love in a nigga

No more love in the nigga but I
Swear her company made me so comfortable
I’on fuck with her (yeah), the way she fuck with me
And it’s probably ’cause I’m from the X, where they take for respect
Thought I woulda been it ’til they grave on my depths
Same fit for a week, now I hate Nike tech
Now I’m a trendsetter, from my sweater to my hat
Dicks put me on the big ass purple Puma jet

I’m flexin’ more than ever, she like, «Money make me wet»
And if I die, I’ma die for my respect
Bury me with like a milli’ on my neck, uh

She was lookin’ O.D. from my side eyes
Say she ain’t an eater, but she lie all the time, time
I woke up to three bitches in my bed
Made me say it three times, «Like you fine, oh you fine-fine»
I ain’t rockin’ with no ho’ niggas or bozo
That’s a no-no, nigga nah, nah
I know they love my fly, the way I rock Dolce and Gabbana

I lost my niggas to the streets when it coulda been me
It’s fucked up, they either dead or doin’ Fed time
Ho’, you all about your press, so am I
If it’s money on your mind, .45 to your hairline
And I keep it by the dresser
Just in case a bitch try to break my heart, I won’t let ya
I still got blood on my denims
That was the blood that was in ’em, no more love in a nigga

Run through it, all the bands that a nigga got
I wonder if the streets still care about me
Long story, I can never really talk about it
I’m numb to it, I stand still when I hear shots
Numb to it, I stand still when I hear shots
I hear niggas talkin’ ’bout the money that they don’t got
I used to be up on the corner with my young akh
Now I go buy a couple pounds of the fronto

I still smoke it by the pound, I get dumb high
I still smoke it by the pound like a rasta
I send money to my niggas sittin’ up, yeah
I send money to my daughter, she’s a rugrat
I been through it, but I’m not givin’ up, yeah
I switch up of different, cars now they upset

Previous post A Boogie Wit da Hoodie — 7 Mac 11’s
Next post A Boogie Wit da Hoodie — Jungle

Добавить комментарий

Ваш адрес email не будет опубликован. Обязательные поля помечены *