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Дата випуску: 01.10.2020
Вікові обмеження: 18+
Мова пісні: Англійська
In Da Field |
I think I’ma die off the pills |
How you know he gon' die in the field? |
They just tell me, «Lil Noodah, get on it» |
They ain’t know I was 'bout this shit |
They think I ain’t got no heart |
They don’t know I be cryin' and shit |
I’m up and I’m chasin' that paper |
I’ll be damned if I cry 'bout a bitch |
I’m uppin', I’m takin' these meds |
I think this shit fuck with my head |
I heard he got hit in the chest |
I don’t think he can take no more shells |
If it’s up, then we takin' it there |
They breakin' ruls in the game, I don’t evn think they listen to the ref |
Lord, give them niggas help |
Bustdown her ring, no, don’t ever think I’d love again (Nope) |
My bitch crossed me out when I was broke, don’t think I’ll trust again (Nope) |
Eleventh floor in the condo, nigga, I ain’t even buzzin' in (Nope) |
I give her a rack, then blow out her back, I’m probably gon' fuck again (Yeah) |
I’m probably gon' fuck again (Yeah) |
Next time that I hit, I’ma tell a bitch bring all her friends (Yeah) |
Top floor condo, gotta walk just to bring them bitches in (Yeah) |
Artists gave me no love, no love, tell my best not to let them in (Nah) |
They know I’ma stand on my ten (Yeah) |
My head hurtin' from the stress (Yeah) |
My uncle got shot in his chest (Bah) |
I’m glad it was just the torso (Yeah, yeah) |
And he ain’t catch one to the head (Fah) |
Extended mag, all-black with the dreads |
They be thinkin' I’m the killer (Nah) |
Please don’t bring your bitch 'round the gang |
'Cause you know that we’ll try to hit her (Come here) |
I think I’ma die off the pills |
How you know he gon' die in the field? |
They just tell me, «Lil Noodah, get on it» |
They ain’t know I was 'bout this shit |
They think I ain’t got no heart |
They don’t know I be cryin' and shit |
I’m up and I’m chasin' that paper |
I’ll be damned if I cry 'bout a bitch |
I’m uppin', I’m takin' these meds |
I think this shit fuck with my head |
I heard he got hit in the chest |
I don’t think he can take no more shells |
If it’s up, then we takin' it there |
They breakin' rules in the game, I don’t even think they listen to the ref |
Lord, give them niggas help |
They know that I’m chasin' this paper |
I’ll be goddamned if I talk to a hater |
If it ain’t 'bout the money, I’ll talk to you later |
I’m stackin' that shit up to ball like the Lakers |
I’m patiently waitin', I’ma drop, better wake up |
These niggas ain’t real and most of 'em bitches |
They cover theyself with the makeup |
You know I’m on gang, play tough |
I’m duckin' that bitch, I don’t lay up |
I get racks in my sleep, I’ma stay up |
You want you a feature or come rock a show |
Then pussy niggas gotta pay us |
I get you killed from 'round that spot and nigga, I don’t stay there |
I have my boy spin on your block and he gon' try to lay there |
Fuckin' that bitch, make her say, «Ayy, yeah» |
I’m gettin' the paper, I ain’t on payroll |
The boy is a bitch, just know he gon' fold |
He’ll be in the streets, he don’t know the code |
Fuckin' with me, you gon' die on the low |
Go get that bag and sell your soul |
Niggas bitches, yeah, I know |
I’ma just keep on goin' off (05) |
I think I’ma die off the pills |
How you know he gon' die in the field? |
They just tell me, «Lil Noodah, get on it» |
They ain’t know I was 'bout this shit (Section 8 just straight cooked this |
motherfucker up) |
They think I ain’t got no heart |
They don’t know I be cryin' and shit |
I’m up and I’m chasin' that paper |
I’ll be damned if I cry 'bout a bitch |
I’m uppin', I’m takin' these meds |
I think this shit fuck with my head |
I heard he got hit in the chest |
I don’t think he can take no more shells |
If it’s up, then we takin' it there |
They breakin' rules in the game, I don’t even think they listen to the ref |
Lord, give them niggas help |