Broke As Fuck - YBN Cordae

Broke As Fuck - YBN Cordae

Альбом
The Lost Boy
Год
2019
Язык
`Engelska`
Длительность
196110

Nedan finns texten till låten Broke As Fuck , artist - YBN Cordae med översättning

Låttexten " Broke As Fuck "

Originaltext med översättning

Broke As Fuck

YBN Cordae

I was broke as fuck, down up on my ass

Had the lowest luck, used to ride the bike up to the store

I need a Rover truck, a Bentley coupe

Yeah, I’m wearin' Prada, I like Fendi too

Grandma passed, had a heart attack, only 62

My cousin shot, got me paranoid, who to trust or not

Gave my brother twenty-five years, that really sucked a lot

Post-traumatic stress is building up, you niggas so dramatic

Fuck these other niggas, I’m the illest, I’m the coldest at it

Let me take you niggas back to a much simpler time

Picture yourself inside a vehicle, a ship in my mind

You’ll see some childhood memories mixed with the cells of a don

You’ll see the doctor smack my ass when I first fell out my mom

A 'Magic School Bus' adventure trip inside my cerebral

Back when I told niggas 'I'll make it, swear' they didn’t believe him

Flashback to Brasstracks and we was playin', no problems

We was crankin' all the classics from the spring to the autumn

Then I said «Motherfuck, need a bad bitch with a tummy tuck»

How I make a million from a dollar?

It was dummy luck

Need a new Lamb', no sedan, fuck a Hummer truck

I’m aiming for the top, I’m steady climbing, fuck a runner-up

I was broke as fuck, down up on my ass

Had the lowest luck, used to ride the bike up to the store

I need a Rover truck, a Bentley coupe

Yeah, I’m wearin' Prada, I like Fendi too

Grandma passed, had a heart attack, only 62

My cousin shot, got me paranoid, who to trust or not

Gave my brother twenty five years, that really sucked a lot

Post traumatic stress is building up, you niggas so dramatic

Fuck these other niggas, I’m the illest, I’m the coldest at it (Aye, uh-huh,

yeah)

Mom and dad never had a damn thing, damn shame

Now I’m poppin' champagne on a private jet, fuck an airplane

Order Bossa Nova, eating plantains

Presidential Rollie, fuck a campaign

Impeach, nigga, ten deep, nigga

Remember days we was wearin' J’s and a gold chain and only had three figures

So fortunate, proportionate, 'Lost Boy', nigga, no coordinates

Remember Christmas?

We was giftless, three-foot tree, no ornaments

Pull my dick out, hoes swarmin' it, flow cold, nigga, no warmin' it

Mama couldn’t afford AAU, so we couldn’t hoop, nigga, no tournaments

I remember days sippin' lemonade

Ice cream truck gettin' plenty paid

Candy lady had Jolly Ranchers, I don’t really have a lot of answers

I’m just searching for the same shit

Same niggas that I came with

Premonitions over reminiscing, Lamb' truck how I lane switch

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