Pain

Lyrics

[Intro] It's like the pain I own [Verse 1] He's addicted to the fame and it's a damn shame I wanna be with some lies and he sounds lame Tales of money and stardom that nobody believes Can't collaborate your story little nigga please This other sucka talking 'bout the [?] relevance Zero commissaries stop insulting my intelligence Put himself in [?] said he needed to die Swallow bleach so he wouldn't go to general pop Frontin to us like he did it just to get a cell phone He was really terrified and tried to get the hell home Picking fights with the crippled then the old, the weak Trying to gain a finesse every time that we speak All the female COs is with it is what he claims I ask him what they with he replies everything Faking ain't gon' get you on a track and no wealth If people with it think you got it they won't offer no help 700 dollar belt, 7 dollars in your pocket Taking pictures, flashing other people's money You should stop and mend this topic fit to any situation His bozo ass frontin' motherfuckers all across the nation [Chorus] Oh, oh Oh, oh Oh, oh Oh, oh Oh, oh Oh, oh Oh, oh Oh, oh [Verse 2] More tears through fears More [?] appears Gotta keep pushing, time to switch the gears Get away from bullshit I ain't tryna hear Haters in the crowd when there's too much cheers Rooting for the real Blinding people polluting how you feel I don't believe in it If my fingers can't feel that's why I touch so many My influence bigger than sales and I touch every penny of mines Nobody in my pockets equals bigger profits We are not equal, I am big homie in the big drop with Roulette table, 20 thousand was the roll Hit that red light, God bless Banga and his soul We wasn't out in Reno, it was sugar house casino Down in Philadelphia, just dropped my Bambino Little Roro, daddy's home sorry I took so long These crackers ain't like the way that I put on Marble floors, marble walls in a marble basement Different living from my, prior incarceration Thinking damn this shit is wack, a nigga had no real choice but To adapt, playing dominoes Not plenty designer clothes Jordan flip-flops those was my zapatos good grip Never slip, never trip Versaci head to toe in his booth making a hit Had to go through some shit to get to some shit bigger Standing at the man in the mirror Like you that nigga Haters can't get rid of Ya boy, Church, who God blessed No man can curse Troy Ave [Chorus] Oh, oh Oh, oh Oh, oh Oh, oh Oh, oh Oh, oh Oh, oh Oh, oh