Testo 502 Come Up - Bryson Tiller

Testo della canzone 502 Come Up (Bryson Tiller), tratta dall'album T R A P S O U L (Deluxe)

Yeah-yeah-eah-eah
For real though
It's so wild now
This shit is crazy, yeah
Woke up in the hills this morning
Asking myself, "How did I get here this morning?"
'Vante Parker in that teal and orange
And Russell in that gold and purple
Youngest from the Ville, important
I used to sit up in my room and ponder
Finished school and get a Doctor's
I'm 22, I gotta get it now
Man, who knew he'd have it figured out?
Trapsoul, man, I crack codes
Crack cocaine, that's what we putting out
These f- n- saying
Don't forget when you was broke, I was looking out
And some say there's levels to this sh-
Damn, look at all the levels that I skipped
Feeling like there's a medal I should get
All these haters getting heavy on my -
Look at my -, chasing paper
Getting books with my n-
So how the f- can people back home say I shook on my n-?
Your two cents ain't working for me
All you n- sound commercial to me, man
I don't like commercial n-
Please shut the f- up before I hurt you (f- your feelings)
Don't take it personal (it's nothing personal)
This a Derby City come up, this a Derby City vertical
First 48, straight murder you
For years and years we waited on this, living in a place folks didn't know exist
Surprise -, we up in this b-
I said I'm back, and I'm so much better
I'm so, so much better and I won't stop (Louis)
I can't stop, not now (Louis) not ever (Louis, Louis)
Louis slugger with the hits
Knock them out the park, then I'm knocking down your -
I'm watching how you pitch
I'm not from Houston, no, I'm not from 'round the six
Got the four series, I should cop the six after the World Series
I just talked to Rich 'bout palm trees and bad bitches
And how these snakes can harm me with bad business
Damn, f- out of here, -
It's very rare for young black men to come up out of here, -
Some will call it luck and some will call me up, I ain't heard from you in years
Please get the f- out my ear, -
My peers get it, only G-O-D can judge me, f- the jurisdiction
I'm working, ain't got time for thirsting over how these chicks appear in pictures
I'm just painting crystal-clear pictures, brushing up on my lyrics -
I just wish momma was here to live up under chandeliers with us
I guess all I ever had to do was take this sh- a little more serious
Let's get it
There's not much to say
Whoa, I'm from the Southside
God Tiller
Damn



Credits
Writer(s): Bryson Tiller, Christopher Justice, Joshua Louis Huizar
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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