Testo 2 Official - YATTA
Testo della canzone 2 Official (YATTA), tratta dall'album Heartfelt
Ain't nothing in this world but you make me go against you
No referee, ain't no more black and white
No referee, ain't no more
Yeah, no referee, ain't no more black and white, I'm too official
Yeah, no referee, ain't no more
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
No referee, ain't no more black and white, I'm too official
Them crackers gave my nigga all that time, shit, I'ma do it with you
Nigga, your problem my problem, I'll go through it with you
And ain't nothing in this world but you could make me go against you
Mama know we ain't talking right now, but you know I miss you
Though I was a child, you wasn't around
Sometimes I hope that'd get you
I was seventeen, my nigga died, I started blowing pistols
Fucked up watching lil' Kirk mama cry
That's a cold feeling, that's a cold feeling
They just want more killings
They just want my niggas locked up in these old prisons
These streets is dead, don't let 'em lie, they paint the wrong image
Better go buy you some land and own your own business
Now back on old business
Streets left me with no feelings
I seen the results of putting trust in the wrong niggas
Who gon' grab that bag up on your head? It be your own niggas
Be your own niggas, be your own niggas
Traumatizing that the viewing can see the holes in 'em
Look inside my nigga eyes, don't see no soul in 'em
Look inside my nigga heart, you don't see no feelings
We just want more killings, we just want more killings
Traumatizing that the viewing can see the holes in 'em
Look inside my nigga eyes, don't see no soul in 'em
Look inside my nigga heart, you don't see no feelings
We just want more killings, we just want more killings
No referee, ain't no more black and white, I'm too official
Them crackers gave my nigga all that time, shit, I'ma do it with you
Nigga, your problem my problem, I'll go through it with you
And ain't nothing in this world but you could make me go against you
Mama know we ain't talking right now, but you know I miss you
Though I was a child, you wasn't around
Sometimes I hope that'd get you
I was seventeen, my nigga died, I started blowing pistols
Fucked up watching lil' Kirk mama cry
That's a cold feeling, that's a cold feeling
Credits
Writer(s): Kenyana Jones
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