War Stories Lyrics

Look up to my fallen soldiers every morning
If you knew what I did in these streets then you wouldn't adore me
I spend racks on Mike Amiri jeans it don't get boring
And I made it up out them trenches, I got war stories
We was just in the field like we playing baseball
On the block with a big glock and an 8 ball
Momma on my ass she just want me to get a day job
We gon mask up with my hoodie on like Trayvon

In a tinted whip with a big Drako and AR
I was poppin a lot of xanny pills for the anger
Them opps was sending them shots but they aim off
They turned me to a Lil Savage so I blame y'all
You know I grip on this ratchet til it get flamed off
All of my lil niggas sliding boy you in danger
She give me top while I'm driving I'm in the ranger
Most of these bitches be acting they showing fake love
Shut up nigga listen I paint vivid pictures
Niggas looking at me different I can feel the tension
We was like 15 totin blicks and getting suspended
Way to focused on getting this money bitch I'm out here getting it

Look up to my fallen soldiers every morning
If you knew what I did in these streets then you wouldn't adore me
I spend racks on Mike Amiri jeans it don't get boring
And I made it up out them trenches, I got war stories
We was just in the field like we playing baseball
On the block with a big glock and an 8 ball Momma on my ass she just want me to get a day job
We gon mask up with my hoodie on like Trayvon

Got a stick on me no 8 ball
These f*ck niggas they play hard
9 to 5 had to work a day job
I don't see niggas like Ray Charles
I was them kicked out of school
Young nigga clutching on the tools
Cause I ain't have a clue on what to do
But y'all go to school where my brother shoot
When I'm 17 and I'm feeling used
Heard my f*cking [?] I'll put you on the news
Before I self-destruct bitch Imma bust one of these tools
I been scarred my whole damn life bitch you can probably see the bruise
Then I got back on my shit I had a lot of shit to prove
Load up the clip put one in the head I had them show how we living
It ain't my fault we from the hood so we was raised around killing
My heart been broken for a minute ain't no need for the healing
Zy Zy 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 then you wouldn't adore me
I spend racks on Mike Amiri jeans it don't get boring
And I made it up out them trenches, I got war stories
We was just in the field like we playing baseball
On the block with a big glock and an 8 ball
Momma on my ass she just want me to get a day job
We gon mask up with my hoodie on like Trayvon

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