PAROLES
[Intro]
This shit sound crazy
Oh
[Chorus: Calboy]
Look up to my fallen soldiers every morning
If you knew what I did in these streets you wouldn’t adore me
Spend a hundred racks on Mike Amiri jeans, it don’t get boring, ayy
And I made it out them trenches, I got war stories, ayy
We was just in the field like we playin’ baseball, ayy
On the block with a big Glock and an eight ball, ayy
Mama mad, she just want me to get a day job
With a mask on and my hoodie up like Trayvon
[Verse 1: Calboy]
In the tinted whip with a big Draco, an AR
I was poppin’ a whole lotta Xanny pills for the anger
I know the opps was sendin’ them shots, but nigga, your aim off
They turned me to a lil’ savage, nigga, I blame y’all
You know I grip on this ratchet, tool can get flamed off
All of my lil’ niggas slide, and boy, you in danger
She give me top while I’m driving, I’m in a ranger
Most of these bitches be actin’, they showing fake love
Shut up, nigga, listen, I paint vivid pictures
Niggas looking at me different, I can feel attention
We was like fifteen totin’ blicks and gettin’ suspended
Way too focused on gettin’ this money, bitch, I’m out here gettin’ it
[Chorus: Calboy]
Look up to my fallen soldiers every morning
If you knew what I did in these streets you wouldn’t adore me
Spend a hundred racks on Mike Amiri jeans, it don’t get boring, ayy
And I made it out them trenches, I got war stories, ayy
We was just in the field like we playin’ baseball, ayy
On the block with a big Glock and an eight ball, ayy
Mama mad, she just want me to get a day job
With a mask on and my hoodie up like Trayvon
[Verse 2: Slatt Zy]
Stick on me, no eight ball
These fuck niggas, they play hard
Not [?] had to work a day job
I don’t see niggas like Ray Charles
I was, um, kicked out of school
Young nigga clutchin’ on the tools
But I ain’t have a clue to know what to do
Bitch, I go to school [?]
And I’m seventeen and I’m feeling used
Hurt my fucking heart, I put you on the news
Before I self-destruct, bitch, I’ma bust one of these tools
I been scarred my whole damn life, bitch, you can probably see the proof
Now I got back on my shit, I had a lot of shit to prove, yeah
Load up the clip, put one in the head, I had to show how we livin’
It ain’t my fault, we from the hood so we was raised around killin’
My heart been broken for a minute, ain’t no need for the healin’
Zeze, he really in these streets, he find this street shit appealing
[Chorus: Calboy]
Look up to my fallen soldiers every morning
If you knew what I did in these streets you wouldn’t adore me
Spend a hundred racks on Mike Amiri jeans, it don’t get boring, ayy
And I made it out them trenches, I got war stories, ayy
We was just in the field like we playin’ baseball, ayy
On the block with a big Glock and an eight ball, ayy
Mama mad, she just want me to get a day job
With a mask on and my hoodie up like Trayvon
