Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Звук


Интерфейс


Уровень сложности


Акцент



язык интерфейса

ru

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
1
зарегистрироваться / войти
Lyrkit

донат

5$

Lyrkit

донат

10$

Lyrkit

донат

20$

Lyrkit

Или поддержи меня в соц. сетях:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Vince Staples

Oh You Scared

 

Oh You Scared

(альбом: Shyne Coldchain Vol. 2 - 2014)


Nigga, what's the deal? Pay attention
Most the time that I've been living we been public housing tenants
Never had no pot to piss so bitch excuse me if I brag a lot
Niggas never had a shot unless you talking .38 that Wak had got
Can't get passed them pearly gates, neglecting what your pastor taught
But you gon' smoke your weed still and you gon' sip your lean still
So I'm gon' hold this heat 'til they make me take my seat in prison
Doing shit my way till 25 to life what I'm facing, baby
My temper short, that anger made me have days in court
In my hood spill blood a sport and the killer's face can show no remorse
Got student loans and you failed the course
Of course you dropped out like 6 am and you see the cops out
Niggas been turnt up, no need to stop now
Speed up, skeet up then air the block out
El Camino creeping with your homies in your backseat
Once you hit that corner watch them niggas turn to athletes
Make him run his pockets, take his wallet then his house keys
Staking out his mama house, we taking every damn thing

[Hook Jhene Aiko:]
Oh, you scared, ain't ya?
Oh, you scared, ain't ya?
Oh, you scared, ain't ya?
Oh, you scared, ain't ya?
You getting bread, ain't ya?
You getting bread, ain't ya?
Ain't ya? Ain't ya?
(Nigga, where my money at?)

If Illuminati buying souls and only fear was dying broke
God who made my life this hard so hell where we decide to go
Could you really judge us knowing us then close to what was given
Father up in prison, Jesus here, but he ain't struggle wit us
The church only made shit worse
The money we was given ain't go to God
Mostly nice cars that Reverends could sit in, destined for jail
We just some niggas facing sentence, we sitting at a standstill
You broke, but you the man still trying to find your plan still
Two kids and mo' bills, food stamps and dope deals, hood life with no frills
But still they swear they feel you and never been close to near you
Once who preach protect and serve the main ones trying to kill you
It ain't no path to life, no prepping for no afterlife
It ain't no wrong or right, it's just the shit you do and shit you don't
Friends that's killing niggas is the only ones you praying for
But words, they never stopped no bullet
Oh, you scared, nigga?

[Hook]

готово

Ты добавил себе все незнакомые слова из этой песни?