lirik lagu hotboy wes – god forgives, i don’t
[intro]
ayy, this lil’ night street hard hit, mane (kg made it)
this for every young n~gga out there, mane
you hear me?
put it in their motherf~cking face, n~gga
for real
[verse 1]
my lil’ brother rocking us but we wasn’t having nikes
grew up in the gutter, wasn’t no instruction, grew to sacrifices
high speed, ain’t have the lights (skrrt)
white folks gon’ extra dictament
p~ssy b~tch ain’t never write me
locked down, i’m letter writing
thousand push~ups every night, thought i hurt them hoes feelings (feelings)
waiting on parole, staring at a closed ceiling (ceiling)
sleepin’ on my momma couch, was thinkin’ ’bout a million (million)
residue on my clothes, sellin’ ‘bows out a building
[verse 2]
record label just called, they want to see me in new york (yep)
creepin’ like i’m from cali, i’m pimping b~tches like too short (crip)
posted up the ally, putting pcp on my new boys
b~tches, they used to dog me
i’m ballin’ like it was two courts
nawfside, thuggin’ like new orleans in the ’90s (wah)
grew up on bg, had a bb gun in my diapers
stay up like thirty~three, when i had to sleep with the lifers
if a n~gga play me, knife ’em
that sh~t turned me to a tiger (grrr)
heart barley beating from the betrayals and the stab wounds
late nights with great whites, been posted up since past noon
gave my dog fifty, ain’t seen my lil’ n~gga since last june
slide me up at eleven, brought a weapon to my classroom
ever since a toddler age, i promise it’s been turbulence (turbulence)
opps said they gon’ stop my days, they promise they gon’ murder men (murder)
ain’t with all that dissin’, you can miss me with that verbal sh~t
choppa sticks on a mission, spin his trenches with some urgency (baow, baow, baow, baow)
[chorus]
young n~gga trappin’, if you trappin’, trap yo’ ass off
young n~gga jackin’, if you jackin’, jack yo’ ass off
free bandz in my gucci (gucci’s), think i’m future with my mask off
never gave a f~ck about no music, i’ll crash out
throwing up my section in a another n~gga trenches (trenches)
rock out with that glock out, i’m like popeye on the spinach (spinach)
b~tch, i’m really from the trenches, don’t do it for no image
opps out, they know where we be spinnin’
glock .9 in my givenchy (baow, baow, baow, baow)
[post~chorus]
y~y~young n~gga trappin’, if you trappin’, trap yo’ ass off (trap)
young n~gga jackin’, if you jackin’, jack yo’ ass off (come here)
free bandz in my gucci, think i’m future with my mask off
never gave a f~ck about no music, i’ll crash out (quit)
[outro]
i~i~i crash out
ayy, and you n~ggas know where to find me at, n~gga
you hear me?
right across the creek, n~gga
on my momma, n~gga, green stone pound, n~gga
yeah, four pistol, no pistol, n~gga
yeah, n~gga, you got a whole football team
n~gga, i’ll be one d
you hear me?
on my momma
still gon’ lay dead in the street, behind that sh~t, n~gga
on my momma, n~gga
yeah
god forgive, i don’t
p~ssy ass n~gga
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