Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tryna Yea, artist - Kevin Gates. Album song Luca Brasi 3, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 27.09.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Bread Winners' Association
Song language: English
Tryna Yea |
I knew somethin' was up when they took me to Livingston jail |
My bond was three-hundred thousand |
Dreka was up there in thirty minutes with forty bands, you heard me? |
'Cause I go back to them niggas in the Feds |
We got kids, tryna make sure that they fed |
I get sick, go to gettin' rid of meds |
Outta work, call him, hoppin' outta bed |
Don’t know how many times I done been to Seg |
Don’t know how many times I prayed and bumped my head |
I got that ice in my mouth, I spent some bread |
And it ain’t cheatin' if I wanna get some head |
I’m just a bread winner out’chea tryna yeah |
I’m just a bread winner out’chea tryna yeah |
I break a brick down then I catch a sale |
I come in town then I get the mail |
Runnin' that fast pace always put me in last place |
I got a nigga from Champaign who wanna fuck with the campaign |
I just got rid of the last thang, put the Corvette in the fast lane |
I just took a trip out to San Diego, hold up, I’m goin' too fast, wey |
Say I drive like Puerto Rico, I belong in a drag race |
Say I’m fuckin' on a deep throat, I don’t remember her last name |
Say I stayed down, and I preyed on 'em and that when the cash came |
Givin' a check to the gas man, pourin' a pint in the gas tank |
Runnin', I might pull a hamstrang |
I know they probably won’t blame Gates, already underwent hard strain |
Cover your hand at the card game |
'Cause I go back to them niggas in the Feds |
We got kids, tryna make sure that they fed |
I get sick, go to gettin' rid of meds |
Outta work, call him, hoppin' outta bed |
Don’t know how many times I done been to Seg |
Don’t know how many times I prayed and bumped my head |
I got that ice in my mouth, I spent some bread |
And it ain’t cheatin' if I wanna get some head |
I’m just a bread winner out’chea tryna yeah |
I’m just a bread winner out’chea tryna yeah |
I told 'em |
You know I painted a bad picture, I gotta do a lil' ass kissin' |
I have been labeled a crash mission, I take her then maybe she act different |
Poor now, deal wit' her ass different, pretendin' she don’t miss the last nigga |
Pullin' her hair from the back, hittin' it, temperature feelin' like Carol City |
Energy wrong, you on your own, I’m 'bout to go in like four minutes |
I get so sick of my phone clickin', gotta deliver a whole chicken |
Marvel’s a movie I’m on glisten, visible set and they all hit |
Crack a smile around this bitch and I just deliver the cold shiver |
I’m reminiscent of those feelings |
I am not runnin' from no nigga |
I am not fuckin' with gold diggers |
I got you covered, I’m on business |
Summer, it’s snowin' the whole visit |
Strawberry haze, don’t whisper |
Meanin' it’s loud, I’m outta town, not on the ground, I’m in the cloud, |
roamin' around |
'Cause I go back to them niggas in the Feds |
We got kids, tryna make sure that they fed |
I get sick, go to gettin' rid of meds |
Outta work, call him, hoppin' outta bed |
Don’t know how many times I done been to Seg |
Don’t know how many times I prayed and bumped my head |
I got that ice in my mouth, I spent some bread |
And it ain’t cheatin' if I wanna get some head |
I’m just a bread winner out’chea tryna yeah |
I’m just a bread winner out’chea tryna yeah |
I’m just a bread winner out’chea tryna yeah |
I’m just a bread winner out’chea tryna yeah |