Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Brian Hackett II
Songwriter
Lyrics
Yea
Bitch its too late for sorry's, yea
I'm done with all your games, bitch I don't play Atari
And if I ever slip away, I pray my brudda's got me
I got too much up on my plate, my nigga stay behind me
I'm carrying all of this weight, bitch I can't fall off
And I ain't got no time to waste so I keep going on
And I gave you chances after chance, now its fuck all of y'all
Mama told me be your own man, bitch I can't follow y'all
No I can't follow y'all
Yea yea
Say you wanna hear me, do you hear me yea
Bitch don't tell me that you feel me, you don't feel me nah
I cut off them loose ends now I see clearly yea
So temporary, that's the reason I don't trust niggas
If I get lied to one more time, I just might buss nigga
Can't shake my hand, you ain't my mans, bitch I don't fuck with you
I get that 30 in my hands, you better duck nigga
Ain't letting up nigga
Nah nah nah
Numb the pain away, nah nah nah
Sometimes I don't even wanna feel
Scars on my heart, they won't ever heal
If you don't feel me, don't tell me that you feel me
Bitch its too late for sorry's, yea
I'm done with all your games, bitch I don't play Atari
And if I ever slip away, I pray my brudda's got me
I got too much up on my plate, my nigga stay behind me
I'm carrying all of this weight, bitch I can't fall off
And I ain't got no time to waste so I keep going on
And I gave you chances after chance, now its fuck all of y'all
Mama told me be your own man, bitch I can't follow y'all
No I can't follow y'all
Yea
Writer(s): Brian Hackett Ii
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