Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
BHM Pezzy
BHM Pezzy
Lead Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Gregory Morgan
Gregory Morgan
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
BHM Pezzy
BHM Pezzy
Executive Producer
Sneakin Beats
Sneakin Beats
Producer

Lyrics

(Say goodnight Sneaky)
Her love a drug, I blocked her number, I ain't tryna relapse
How the ho gon' think I need her? I got broken kneecaps
Come in peace, I get uncomfortable, them folks gon' spin you ASAP
Mind ya business, you ain't gettin' no pape, because you watching they trap (Huh)
He on live tryna pop it, we finna pull up on him
He don't know his body gon' get bent soon as we bend the corner
My young **** he fourteen, fuck the age, that boy gon' spin a grown up
War wounds, fucked up buddy nerves, he can't even lift the phone up (Shh)
It kind of hurt me just to talk about this shit 'cause I done lived it
Spend my nights callin' on God, sometimes I feel the line busy
Bitch worked at the strip club, spend her time twerkin', her spine busy
I don't think with my dick, I won't fuck a ho unless my mind with it
Play the hood, they think we sweet, watch how we spin it back to back
Fuck these hoes, my line dry, could use my phone to strike a match
I ain't gon' lie I'm a lover boy, sometimes my mind on my sack
This street shit stuck right on my mind, can't do no lyin' about that
Pain done left a hole right in my heart
God send us the signs we just ignore 'em
Prayin' the rain'll wash away my scars
Leave your pain and get away from ours
That gives you the pain, you the one to blame, girl you super lame
Diss at 9, die at 10:17, like he Gucci Mane (Huh)
Hit the highway, stolen glizzys, shit was stupid, go and admit it
Should've did it my way, took the street way
Opp video shoot, finna spin it
Hit a bitch like Georgia State Patrol, we put this hotbox to the limit
Tryna spin the opps, hit the camera man, it'll be on the news in twenty minutes
Left the iPhone at the spot, if we get caught up, they can't pin it
We don't know nothin' bout no nothin', we was playin' Call of Duty, you trippin'
Pain done left a hole right in my heart
God send us the signs we just ignore 'em
Prayin' the rain'll wash away my scars
Leave your pain and get away from ours
Written by: Gregory Morgan
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