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واجهه المستخدم


مستوى الصعوبة


لهجة



لغة الواجهة

ar

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MBNel

GHOSTS

 

GHOSTS


(Hey-Hey-Hey, Taewon)

Heavenly Father, give me strength to see the snakes
'Cause I've been giving back to folks when all they ever did was take
I was filling up dinner plates just making sure that we ate
All I wanted back was a crumb, but they ate that shit in my face
Took it for granted, Lord, that's something I ain't understanding
Why does everything I love always turn around, leave me damaged?
I can't stand it, and every time, I wanna leave this planet
Drug addiction, please don't judge me, it's my way for me to manage
You telling me you love me? Then come prove it
I'm from a place where showing heart is a weakness, you might just lose it
Has your mama ever told you you was useless?
We keep a gun 'cause if we don't, we could just die if we don't use it
And stop saying that I rap, bitch, I do music
And you don't see the real you 'til you fall off and start losing
Get the squares by my circle, don't fit in like in a Rubik's
Been ahead of the DAs, I just let 'em think that I'm stupid
Living life like we ruthless
Apologizing to my daughter mother
I know you sick 'cause all the shit that I'm involving us in
And I ain't plan to have my daughter, I forever got her
But if somebody ever play, shit comes with repercussions
Ain't really busting, shooting houses ain't really a score
And I was taught to wait outside 'til he open the door
And you ain't really getting bread 'cause he touching lil' toast
The fuck I look like, riding waves? Bitch, I'm driving the boat
We gon' creep up on him and turn him a ghost
Ashes of hella dead opps, this ain't za that we smoke
Instagram disses fun and games 'cause he died 'cause a joke
Fuck that back and forth, ask the police 'bout the shit that they know
Ghost Glock, color peanut butter, why that bitch jam?
Reasons why I'm humble, I wasn't born into a rich man
Church days on Sundays, was Catholic, not a Christian
I had demons talking to me, I fucked up when I listened
This a true story, ain't no allegories, ain't no fiction
Yeah, I'm skinny, but this Glock will drop somebody who be lifting
I had dreams of being rich 'til I woke up a quarter million
Reminiscing, kill a opper, whoever fit the description (Ayy)
Red leaves falling from the trees look like blood drops
Crucify him if I feel threatened 'cause I won't go for it
If he surviving any shots, we make him love God
But if he don't call up the priest, make him a ghost story

(Hey-Hey-Hey, Taewon)

منتهي

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