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letra de $treet grammy(prod. 808pablo) - verb

intro
i hope the pressure never make me buckle
i hope this weight that i carry gon give me muscle
teach me how to maneuver right through the struggle, right through the struggle…muscle

verse
my n-gga e just took a beating last sat-rday
caught that n-gga slipping, heard they pulled up where his granny stay
its really snitching if i talk about the details
dealing with these demons man a n-gga can’t sleep well(uhh)
i pray to god but he don’t ever listen(no)
2 a.m, i’m still driving, think about the mission(whoa)
all these women, all these problems, all these drugs that got me tripping
promised momma imma quit but i wrote this while i was sipping(d-mn)
probably the third time i relapse
i was on my third pill screaming:”f-ck rehab”(f-ck rehab)
my pops probably gonna hear this and he judge me
i know i disappointed everyone who ever loved me(yeah)
you ever had migraines thinking about pressure?
i had turned to a fiend, i had the drugs on the dresser
you ever had the doctor tell your momma that you’re comatose?
momma tried to ask him,:”what? he’s wrong”
he said:”it’s overdose”
i couldn’t breathe(…gasp) blood on my shirt(uhh)
and as i bleed use the blood to write this verse
i know it’s deep, but i wrote this for my family
wrote this for the streets, f-ck a speech, f-ck a grammy n-gga

- verb

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