Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Came True, artist - Travis ThompsonDate of issue: 09.05.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Came True |
| I said I get it, then I get further, make sure that sip’s worth it |
| I’m somewhere losing trust and sippin' with the spliffs burning |
| I’m off the shifts lurking, get up then I get earnings |
| In and out of dorm rooms, bitches singing like it’s Pitch Perfect (ooh) |
| I’m a different kinda icon |
| Move around a party with a duffel full of pipe bombs |
| Like, fuck what y’all be hyped on, twirlin' fettuccine white sauce |
| I got Nelly on my iPod in this sauna with my ice on (ayy) |
| Steppin' crucially, movin' like nothin' new to me |
| And the booty clutch on, every script on my Youtube link |
| Like who is this? |
| Boy, it’s me, 'bout it since the booster seat |
| Clutch handles with them hangers 'cause fuck it this car ain’t moved in weeks |
| I’m from the part of town where Mexicans and be |
| Shoelace belt on TV 'cause I’ll never lose the youth in me |
| I truthanize a goofy bitch who don’t know what I’m soon to be |
| Truman with a Buddhist priest who can’t wait for the new khalifa |
| And that’s the, that’s the way it’s gotta be |
| I do my thang and get my check for any widow me |
| They used to clap for Compton’s missing, now they ask for offerings |
| So if you ask what this shit like I’m just gon' answer honestly |
| I said, no fair fights for a smart mouth (nope) |
| Can’t nobody get a dollar out of me (motherfucker) |
| Gettin' faded, bendin' corners by the courthouse (whoo) |
| While I’m reppin', yellin', «Let my cousin free!» |
| And then I asked 'em, «Why would God make you?» |
| Can I tell 'em, «Why would God make you?» |
| If he loved you, why would God make you? |
| I used to tweet it and it all came true |
| Can I tell 'em? |
| They be talkin' scene shit, like I give a fuck, bitch |
| I’m still doing dirt with all the kids that I grew up with |
| I’m still on my «fuck shit», switch guts my rug sit |
| They feel ways, don’t say much, tour bus where my nuts is |
| And it feel great when they teeth grit, still pacin' my scene split |
| Sip straight for like four nights, I can’t see much but I see this |
| So your team is fake, your lean is fake, your Beemer rented |
| Couldn’t fool me if you do that shit |
| Anything you’re trying, man, I do that shit |
| Everywhere I’m going be like, «Who that is?» |
| Yo, got me highly fucked up askin' for more |
| Knock on the pearly gates like «Why y’all gotta hassle me for?» |
| I’m an assassin of sorts, I got the faculty floored |
| I sit my Indian poise and puke out the passenger door |
| I learned real early in life how to turn your racks into more |
| But I done burst every brain cell boxin' my half and a four |
| So I can’t focus for shit, I pull up dough low to arenas by my lonesome and sit |
| I’m hard up holdin' my dick, bitch |
| I said, no fair fights for a smart mouth (nope) |
| Can’t nobody get a dollar out of me (motherfucker) |
| Gettin' faded, bendin' corners by the courthouse (whoo) |
| While I’m reppin', yellin', «Let my cousin free!» |
| And then I asked 'em, «Why would God make you?» |
| Can I tell 'em, «Why would God make you?» |
| If he loved you, why would God make you? |
| I used to tweet it and it all came true |
| Can I tell 'em? |
| Damn, bro, you can’t even pick up anymore? |
| I’m not trippin', I’m not worried about it dog |
| I just called to say I say I saw your last picture on Instagram |
| You really weren’t kidding when you said you looked like Andy Milonakes with |
| bell fucking flag (?), huh? |
| Damn, bro, and I swear you’re gettin' bigger, too, this money got you eatin', |
| huh? |
| Yeah, you’re built like Aretha Franklin, homie |