Traumatised

Uh, if boy'dem pull up Know I'm cutting first I was upset when bro got first blood 'Cause I tried cuttin' first This white girl more than average Make my number jerk These dotty pellets spread That's worse than a fuckin' germ Erm, what's gonna help me live my bestest life? Money up, bestest times Them times, bro was still alive I know he's gone, but he's still that guy I've seen man get shot and stabbed Never left me traumatizеd Real niggas turnin' fake Left mе more surprised I'll air out man for Jung He'll do the same for me, I love that guy Bando settings with some digi' scales And number nine If we put our phone on flight mode We'll be done by nine Music pays, it's kind of a'ight I still want a shot of Miley Cy' Huh, got Miley Cyrus Opp shots know my name Not my real one, if they did I prob' would've caught a case I'm the hood's hottest topic Might end up on Hall Of Fame Can't get my shank mixed up with bro's Me and him don't bore the same I'm way too fly, even when I don't pack my bags I'm board the plane Dip game nine, don't believe me? Go ask what's his face CCTV don't mean shit if you mask up properly, ayy That's cap, got members with me Put you in check if you don't move properly, ayy I got a savage with me Turn shit ugly like some morning face Big homie aim for chest and up No feet like Tory Lanez A pagan estate just got taped No cap, I'm all to blame Got haters 'round me The more I better myself, the more they hate No pagan ho' can't look in my direction Walk my way No opp boy cancelled plans That vid' still got recorded, ayy Streets is fake, rap game worse I don't even wanna participate Me and Kodak Black alike I don't even rap, I illustrate Have you ever rode on the opps? Scared face showin', "Please, don't shoot me" I ain't taking check Better check your tone when you're chatting to me Scrolling through Instagram This one's the baddest cutie But, if she ain't got more than ten put down She can't be bad and bougie Got TT cats, don't screw me Can't say the same 'cause your ting meady I made more money in jail Than your boyfriend made on road I ain't tryna be cheeky Too much cats, I ain't tryna be greedy Too much waps, I ain't tryna be swinging arms Baby mum, don't leave me So, scoring points is easy for me Sometimes I wonder how much The yutes I beef wanna be me All these bad bitches wanna beat me Snakes dressed up as friends, wanna pree me No cappin' man, believe me Grew up in stolen cars When we go on glides, we turn the headlights off So they know wagwan Wagwan