Bring That Feeling Back
Lyrics
I was really in the trap with the army
Two guns on me, near nigga couldnt harm me
Where my competition at, let me hear somethin
I hear my competition wack, these niggas scared bluffing
All these niggas be acting like they the hardest
And shit, im just doing me snapping regardless
Rap artist, real rap i been living that
All my verses come from the heart, i brung that feeling back
I was really in the trap moving 50 packs, tryna stuff bricks in my thermals they couldnt fit i that
If you a rat you couldnt stand by me, just to get inside the club i use my mans ID
I was a young nigga, all the thug niggas i ran with em
Never folded, never told so i can stand with em
I done witnessed niggas playing the victim
It dont matter when we catch you niggas still gon kill you
You shoulda picked a side or stayed on the sidewalk
He tryna hit my line, nah it aint my fault my nigga
Knowin we aint cool at all my nigga, yea you used to be my homie not nomore my nigga
Im a beast with this rap shit i do it easy & when it comes to this rap beef i do em greasy
I dont fuck with none of you niggas man i'll murder any one of you niggas, fuck outta here
Who's that peeking in my window, ima die throwing hard punches like im Kimbo
Big screen TV in the crib blowing indo, remote look like a 64 joystick for Nintendo
Listen i be coming all crazy & they love how i body shit
The kicks mean & i aint talking bout karate flicks
Still stretching work out on some Pilates shit
One thing i cant stand a stuck up or a snotty bitch
Radio, Forrest Gump cause the flow dummy, ten thousand dollars cash that aint no money
Tryna create some revenue off of show money
Cant keep my hands clean im still gettin blow money
And that day that i let my family go hungry, will be the same day your family start a GoFundMe
Watch the credit rise, niggas tellin hella lies
Bout to start a revolution & it wont be televised
How you come with 21 niggas & 11 died
We could start a fruit fight & watch how his melon fly
Nowadays everybody got some shit to say
You want smoke, i got cigars nigga pick a day
Hammer on my lap & i got a whole brick of yay
That bitch acting funny then i throw that whole bitch away
Now thats madness im ready for you bastards
Salute my nigga Gizzle bro we just dropped a classic
Tryna fall back but im back in the mix again
If rap dont work, its back selling bricks again
Hitters on go, they coming if im sending them
Shooters coming dressed in dark blue like Michigan
These snakes & these rats, swear im getting sick of them
Most these niggas actors, well i got some clips for them
Gun got a drum with a scope we aint missing him
Pick his newborn up, we aint tryna tickle him
We holding him for ransom, send that money or we killing him
Streets fucked up, alot of shit is different now
Everybody scamming, aint no body pitching now
Nobody keeping they mouth shut, niggas snitching now
Sitting telling war stories round a bunch of bitches now
Talkin what they got & who they shot niggas showing off
Talkin out the mouth until a nigga blow it off, ever since a youngin i was born to be a boss
Go head & disrespect the bros, that'll get a nigga tossed
Got alot of opps, keep burners in the pants for them
Team full of shooters, we scoring like Durant & them
Them bills mean alot but never turn on my mans for them
Done shed a hundred tears time to see a hundred grand with em
Stay fly wheat swamps with a lil bit of tan in em
Dont wear balmains cause i cant fit a band in em
All the robbers & murderers, A Bandz ran with em
Writer(s): Young Gizzle
Copyright(s): Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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