I'm tripping hard 'cause my nigga gone
And everyday it's getting worse
My brother died on a Sunday
He should've been in church
We gon' die in the trap house
I was whippin' up the work
On the block with them Glocks out
We might put 'em on a shirt
I'm tripping hard 'cause my nigga gone
And everyday it's getting worse
My brother died on a Sunday
He should've been in church
We gon' die in the trap house
I was whippin' up the work
On the block with them Glocks out
We might put 'em on a shirt
Swear to god I never pay for a shooter
Free my dog, Lord knows I can't lose you
They say throw a million dollars, you a new you
That's a lie, man the money made me coo-coo
Hits in the streets like the billboard
Street money, lil' niggas will kill for it
Baguette AP, I payed a deal for it
500 K, this the big boy
I heard you seen an opp, and you froze up
Me, I got the drake in the Roles' trunk
Soon as I send the Tech, know I rolls up
Nigga got beef, know I showed up
I never forget the shit that OG niggas told me
Reppin' the rap game 'cause this corporate niggas hold us
Keepin' it gangsta, these niggas know that we the culture
RIP Sausa, nigga we lost a soldier
Pack came on a Monday, straight up
Feds busted on a Tuesday
Nobody knew that the pack came, niggas
But my boys so they can freeze me
He switched up once the money came
That's the quickest way to lose me, nobody helped
They only coming when the beef on
I think these niggas tryna use me
I'm tripping hard 'cause my nigga gone
And everyday it's getting worse
My brother died on a Sunday
He should've been in church
We gon' die in the trap house
I was whippin' up the work
On the block with them Glocks out
We might put 'em on a shirt
I'm tripping hard 'cause my nigga gone
And everyday it's getting worse
My brother died on a Sunday
He should've been in church
We gon' die in the trap house
I was whippin' up the work
On the block with them Glocks out
We might put 'em on a shirt
Rest in peace all my dead homies
Had us singing these sad songs
I stay rolling, these niggas be mad strong
I get high 'til I head home
I remember them days we were doing them dead wrong
Boy you best keep your head on
Don't come in this block, that's a red zone
I got a few packs, put my mans on
I learned how to trap, I was hands on
Moved the keys for the first time
I'm a young Stevie Wonder
I swear to God man, this life will make you wanna
Nigga got the chopper, bet he make it stutter
I be slanging bricks and butter
And I'm from the streets, so I had to pick the gun up
You can't cross me, shawty 'cause I'm always running
Cutting all night, working hard 'til the sun up
Hard 'til the sun up
How you trade on your mans, you so dirty
When we talk to the clan we took .30s
I told mama your boy a man, so don't worry
Only put my trust in these bands, they don't hurt me
Only smoking exotic gas, my eyes blurry
I just poured a four with my mans, so I'm slurry
I just did the digital dash, now I'm swerving
I just had a talk with my mans, hope he heard me
I'm tripping hard 'cause my nigga gone
And everyday it's getting worse
My brother died on a Sunday
He should've been in church
We gon' die in the trap house
I was whippin' up the work
On the block with them Glocks out
We might put 'em on a shirt
I'm tripping hard 'cause my nigga gone
And everyday it's getting worse
My brother died on a Sunday
He should've been in church
We gon' die in the trap house
I was whippin' up the work
On the block with them Glocks out
We might put 'em on a shirt, yeah