T Dot Ragedy - NFL YoungBoy (feat. Porche Boxx)

T-Dog Ragedy, voice of the ghetto, forty God
Feel like the walls done closed on him Hoping that the gang don't fold on him
Feeling like the hood got a hold on him Thank God he never told
Streets cold, but you know what that cold taught him

Plenty niggas die with that pole on them, long as you love it
Catch a body, better know what it come with Ain't no crying if they catch you and judge it
I'm really above it, only pussies pop shit for the public
I don't want it, this shit just ain't for me, so I dub it

I'm disgusted, them niggas sat in front of the police and they discussed it
When niggas know too much of anything, I don't trust it
Don't you got an open felony? Jealousy? I don't trust it
What you trying to put a shell in me, tell on me I don't trust it

I just want the bread stack spread like mustard Joshua, I stand on any word that I Mustered
My man had the plug on the water, let's get them dusted
Any bitch I ever had and she played me, that bitch is busted
I can't waste another minute out here Gotta take it how you give it out here

Ain't no complaining if you banging, I'm just on a different mission out here
They can't win until I'm finished out here Can't get rid of this feeling, I know it's real either Killed or They wanna trap me, tunnel vision on the million the devil tryna distract me
Fuck

All this pain on my shoulders heavy Shit ain't the same, but they know I'm ready
I know the game, so they never get me Only the lord sit above us
Pillow talkers, we don't talk under covers Stomp a nigga till his blood on my butters
Call me bro, but are you really my brother? I don't think so

Shit I think about while I drink, slow shouldn't drink
Hard not to think of the days when I couldn't blink
Remember niggas feeling a way cause I couldn't link
Should thank me, I was tryna make sure that we wouldn't sink

Fuck
P-P-P-Porche
Forty God
P.B

Uh, look
P.B. and the Forty God
This shit is forever immortalized When you see me I'm just keeping it organized
Life ain't a joke, you levitating till you unable to float

Which means you up and you down like the price of the coke
In the hood we draw strings on the canvas
The paintbrushes is hammers and them ski masks we wear em like pajamas
Flip em up from time to time to make a scully

A hustler spirit, we do it all to get the money
I done been around all E. Troubs bids
He came home, turned up, and did the same shit but he changed now
Look how life became a phase now

Him and E.J. in the park calling plays now
This life is a trip with no pre-check
They predicted us to be some rejects
Young niggas, you can't tell me about no trenches at all

We shared butter bagels with bros, hopped fences with broads
Bust licks we had no baggies, used tissue and all
UPS, I just send em and ball
I just had some moon rocks, them shits like cinnamon balls

Landlord told me give him a call, I'm just venting with Cauch
When they see me they salute me, as porche
I'ma hold it down cause they don't fuck with them Jawns
Painting a narrative like God aint Call, chinx and stack home

Rest up, we gon' forever watch the throne
Nigga, your handshakes ain't matching your smiles
Nigga, I know, hoes on the top of the hollows, I keep the Ralo
Stand on my own too, my balance was never a challenge

Let's have a moment of silence

Written by:
Joshua Love

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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