War Stories

This shit sound crazy
Oh
Look up to my fallen soldiers every morning
If you knew what I did in these streets you wouldnt adore me
Spend a hundred racks on Mike Amiri jeans, it dont get boring, ayy
And I made it out them trenches, I got war stories, ayy
We was just in the field like we playin baseball, ayy
On the block with a big Glock and an eight ball, ayy
Mama mad, she just want me to get a day job
With a mask on and my hoodie up like Trayvon
In the tinted whip with a big Draco, an AR
I was poppin a whole lotta Xanny pills for the anger
I know the opps was sendin them shots, but nigga, your aim off
They turned me to a lil savage, nigga, I blame yall
You know I grip on this ratchet, tool can get flamed off
All of my lil niggas slide, and boy, you in danger
She give me top while Im driving, Im in a ranger
Most of these bitches be actin, they showing fake love
Shut up, nigga, listen, I paint vivid pictures
Niggas looking at me different, I can feel attention
We was like fifteen totin blicks and gettin suspended
Way too focused on gettin this money, bitch, Im out here gettin it
Look up to my fallen soldiers every morning
If you knew what I did in these streets you wouldnt adore me
Spend a hundred racks on Mike Amiri jeans, it dont get boring, ayy
And I made it out them trenches, I got war stories, ayy
We was just in the field like we playin baseball, ayy
On the block with a big Glockand an eight ball, ayy
Mama mad, she just want me to get a day job
With a mask on and my hoodie up like Trayvon
Stick on me, no eight ball
These ** ** niggas, they play hard
Not had to work a day job
I dont see niggas like Ray Charles
I was, um, kicked out of school
Young nigga clutchin on the tools
But I aint have a clue to know what to do
Bitch, I go to school
And Im seventeen and Im feeling used
Hurt my ****ing heart, I put you on the news
Before I self-destruct, bitch, Ima bust one of these tools
I been scarred my whole damn life, bitch, you can probably see the proof
Now I got back on my shit, I had a lot of shit to prove, yeah
Load up the clip, put one in the head, I had to show how we livin
It aint my fault, we from the hood so we was raised around killin
My heart been broken for a minute, aint no need for the healin
Zeze, he really in these streets, he find this street shit appealing
Look up to my fallen soldiers every morning
If you knew what I did in these streets you wouldnt adore me
Spend a hundred racks on Mike Amiri jeans, it dont get boring, ayy
And I made it out them trenches, I got war stories, ayy
We was just in the field like we playin baseball, ayy
On the block with a big Glock and an eight ball, ayy
Mama mad, she just want me to get a day job
With a mask on and my hoodie up like Trayvon