Singer: Hotboy Wes
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Song: God Forgives, I Don't
Hotboy Wes - God Forgives, I Don't Subtitles (vtt) (03:25-205-0-en) (PARTIAL PREVIEW)
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WEBVTT
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by RentAnAdviser.com
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Ayy, this lil’ night street hard
hit, mane (KG made it)
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This for every young nigga
out there, mane
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You hear me?
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Put it in their motherfucking
face, nigga
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For real
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My lil’ brother rocking US but
we wasn’t having Nikes
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Grew up in the gutter, wasn’t no
instruction, grew to sacrifices
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High speed, ain’t have
the lights (Skrrt)
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White folks gon’ extra dictament
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Pussy bitch ain’t never write me
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Locked down, I’m letter writing
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Thousand push-ups every night,
thought I hurt them
hoes feelings (Feelings)
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Waiting on parole, staring at
a closed ceiling (Ceiling)
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Sleepin’ on my momma couch, was thinkin’
’bout a million (Million)
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Residue on my clothes, sellin’
‘bows out a building
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Record label just called, they want
to see me in New York (Yep)
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Creepin’ like I’m from Cali, I’m pimping
bitches like Too Short (Crip)
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Posted up the ally, putting
PCP on my new boys
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Bitches, they used to dog me
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I’m ballin’ like it was two courts
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Nawfside, thuggin’ like New
Orleans in the ’90s (Wah)
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Grew up on BG, had a BB
gun in my diapers
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Stay up like thirty-three, when
I had to sleep with the lifers
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If a nigga play me, knife ’em
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That shit turned me to a tiger (Grrr)
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Heart barley beating from the betrayals
and the stab wounds
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Late nights with great whites, been
posted up since past noon
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Gave my dog fifty, ain’t seen my
lil’ nigga since last June
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Slide me up at eleven, brought
a weapon to my classroom
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Ever since a toddler age, I promise
it’s been turbulence (Turbulence)
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Opps said they gon’ stop my
days, they promise they gon’
murder men (Murder)
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Ain’t with all that dissin’, you can
miss me with that verbal shit
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Choppa sticks on a mission, spin
his trenches with some urgency
(Baow, baow, baow, baow)
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Young nigga trappin’, if you
trappin’, trap yo’ ass off
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Young nigga jackin’, if you
jackin’, jack yo’ ass off
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Free Bandz in my Gucci (Gucci’s), think
I’m Future with my mask off
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Never gave a fuck about no
music, I’ll crash out
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Throwing up my section in a another
nigga trenches (Trenches)
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Rock out with that Glock out, I’m like
Popeye on the spinach (Spinach)
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Bitch, I’m really from the trenches,
don’t do it for...........
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