Groovy Camachie - Broken Hearted (feat. Duffle Bag Cypher & Groovy Camachie)

Right now a niqqa straight
I dodged the hate
She say she love me i told
Her She late
I told her she late
I feel like Wayne
I'm sorry for the wait
I just wanna be great
Going outta state
I'm on my way
I came in to stay
Fuck what you say
High on some strain
Cop me some J's
I got it for days
Put on some some weight
Yung niqqa paid
Y'all niqqas go against the
Grain
I make the AK go spray
I don't even play
Bust out your brain
Put you in the news
So i gave you some fame
On top of my game
So i ball like am James
Still pray for grace
You dig up your grave
Wild and am brave
You know my name but
You don't know my pain
I got the hustle running
Through my vein
I brought the whole gang to
The bank
We calling straight shots to
The bank
I keep a pistol tucked in my Pants
I get some real love from my Fans
Foot on the gas
And am speeding so fast
Hope I don't crush
Foot on da gas
And am going so fast
Keep some stacks on the
Dash
Fucked all my past
I been real from the start
I got Dope in the stash
I Fuck her pussy good
Make she squirt
She don't wanna flirt
I make the coupe go skrrr
Skrrr
Came from the dirt
Fuck with a niqqa now you
Get murked
Stains on my shirt
All this tear drops I been hurt
Thought that was a curse

Cant teach me nothing i came From the mud yh dirt in ma Shirt
Pull up with sticks and i hop
On quest
Crew is so viscious you don't Finna test
Did it ma way got ma dad Loosing breath
You know how i move yh
I groove with the steps
Got me a thot and i put it in
Her Skirt
Baby no love cause they
Showed me none first
No time to flirt
Showing no fear Yh when i
was under pressure i want
Me some bands
You never get involved when You want ain't
You talking money now you Making sense
I cant hear nothing i came
From the trenches
So many hate I've e being so Cold hearted my pulse is so Feint
Got me some bags i haul ass
And claim
Bitch we OTF you don't show Your face
Yh i'm with 45 linen, trip you Not forgiven
You can never tame these Seekers you got plucked like Chicken
Beat some odds we geek in
The Cold yh we up and
Sinning
Got ma z28 just smoked
Yh you stuck there spinning
Working all night and i
Cash out next morning
Me and priest hop in a foreign
Errthing is tip top before me
I got some labels they calling
Talk to the hand cause you
Don't Know the story
When i was down yh you Laughed when you saw me
Dripping on em cause they
Now looking boring
Got me a pinktoe she love to Work on me

Right now a niqqa straight
I dodge the hate
She say she love me i told her She late
I told her she late
I feel like Wayne i'm sorry
For the wait
I just wanna be great
Going outta state
I'm on my way
I came in to stay
Fuck what you say
High on some strain
Cop me some js
I got it for days
Put on some some weight
Yung niqqa paid
Y'all niqqaz go against
The grain
I make the AK go Spray
I don't even play
Bust out your brain
Put you in the news
So i gave you some fame
On top of my game
So i ball like am James
Still pray for Grace
You dig up your grave
Wild and am brave
You know my name but
You don't know my pain
I got the hustle running
Through my vein
I brought the whole gang
To the bank
We calling straight shots
To the bank
I keep a pistol tucked in my Pants
I get some real love from my Fans
Foot on the gas
And am speeding so fast
Hope I don't crush
Foot on da gas
And am going so fast
Keep some stacks on the dash

Written by:
Duffle Cypher, Prince David

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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