Dear Diary Pt. 1

Rischard Maxwell

I ain't fuckin' with these niggas, I've been movin' on my own
I told that bitch, I'm tryna fuck you on a stay then come along
Let you know ahead of time, it ain't my fault if you get hurt
My ex-bitch said, then he bogus, so my feelings in the dirt

Sorry, baby, this can't work
I been on my grind and these bitches throwin' skirts
I been losin' track of time, mixin' Addys with the Perks
I been ridin' through the city in a Stryker with some work

I ah punched a nigga dead in the shit, I seen him smirk
Unky told me, keep a stick, but if I can't, walk away
Even my mama know I be on bullshit, what could I say
Chop a party on your block, this big bitch gon' bring the bass

She ask me what I'm tryna do, I put my dick up in her face
I ah buy that bitch a lace, but I can't pay no bills
Leave it up to me, you gon' be late
But I be damned if I ain't, damned if I ain't

I be damned if I don't keep a hundred grams in the safe
I been prayin' every day, hope my cutty beat this case
Judge clutching on the book, ready to throw it at his face
I ain't trippin', I'ma get this shit up at my own pace

These niggas tryna go against me, I been in my own race
I got a brother that's a 60, baby, I'ma whole
Let me find out bro nem tellin', life gon' be a closed case
Put a opp up in the oven, let him cook on slow bake

Lately I've been out here stressin', I need to get my soul take
I mean get my soul took, I ain't playin' by the book
Pussy niggas couldn't get right, I checked him with a left hook
I just beat a nigga ass and stuffed him with my best foot

Cross a nigga off the list, let me get my textbook
I'm on some money, niggas dyin', bullets flyin
Let him kill himself while I go and get mines in
I Pray to God, be on my side

And when I slide, don't let me die
Cause I don't wanna leave my momma cryin
You know I gotta make it right
Cause I remember days, momma had some sleepless nights

Man, I gotta do it once, shout out my momma in this song
Cause I'm thankful that my momma went and blessed me with a dome
You niggas trippin', always goin' against the game
Never tryna listen, hypin' all these hoe niggas head up because they got some chicken

Me, BJ, Chris grew up on tip, this ain't no pretendin
I'm finna knock down all the walls and say I gotta ceiling

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Altri artisti di French alternative rock