Scars

Lil Berete

Try to get up out the hood ain't none changed I'm still a project baby Can't switch for cheese I know we different cause my momma raised me Slagging nines and banging sticks To deep in the streets don't try to save me If I close my eyes and turn my back I bet these niggas snack me Come around the hood Bunch of thuggas strapped up like the navy's I was showing Had to Cut some friends cause they moving shady Ran off on the plug Did him dirty he got counterfeited Better not run your mouth And Point a finger like your partner did it Been through the worst and dark nights But no I'm counting digits She hold her purse I got my strap in case a nigga want it Fuck my ex she keep calling me Like baby sorry Tell me how I turned a target Just cause I'm an artist These hundreds all up in my pockets I don't need a wallet And I don't make no problems But my niggas always solve it To be honest you aint finna finish What you fuckin started I gave her anything she want But I ain't finna promise She get freaky she get strippy Cause I'm worth a couple racks Couple diamonds on my chest I might just leave with her like that yeah yeah And she get freaky in the back yeah I change the sheets and move on to the next yeah And she came here with a friend yeah We turn up like the weekend every night yeah Paranoia got me geeking Put my team on it She said that she was gon ride I Put some wheels on it Know some niggas that would kill and Do a bid for me (yeah) But I rather put some tints on me Pull up back to back I got some shooter that got my back And my niggas in the cell and I hope He make it back I just woke up in the hood Can't waste no time gotta get that strap Know my oops they want me whacked But I ain't going out like that And my brodie did a couple years But he finally made it back Took my brother like the other day And We finally got them whacked In these streets they got us struggling I had to walk down with my pack Got a youngin and I love him Tried to tell him don't sell no crack Got some niggas whipping Shocking making traps do jumping jacks Finesse the plug He tried to tell me where my money at? Don't worry about it nigga cause I'm where that money at Your bitch she all up on me and I guess I'm flirting back She get freaky she get strippy Cause I'm worth a couple racks Couple diamonds in my chest I might just leave with her like that yeah yeah And she get freaky in the back yeah I change the sheets and move on to the next yeah And she came here with a friend yeah We turn up like the weekend every night yeah yeah

Written by: Charles Driggers, Yaya BereteLyrics © Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN), Universal Music Publishing GroupLyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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Scars

Lil Berete

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