| The tragedy in a man’s life
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| Is not having lived while you was alive
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| Learnin' to love and lose is a part of life
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| It’s never having loved anyone or anything
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| That’s the biggest loss of all
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| Wish Me Well 3, the streets is waitin' (yeah)
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| Look, never put your trust in a nigga, my mama told me that
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| I can’t do no dirt with you niggas, you can’t wait to rat
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| Big homie keep sayin' he got me, I can’t wait on that
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| No offence, but I’ma go get mine, just pray I make it back
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| Okay, my main man down, lil' brother died and he won’t pay back
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| Hey, ever seen a grown man cry in a Maybach?
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| Talkin' to God, the hood do anything to have Lay back
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| Lord know we’ll do anything to have Quay back
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| Look, free dog, John Kenny, I can’t wait to see y’all
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| Miss me with that sucker shit, but don’t piss me off
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| Look, we ain’t duckin' no wreck, I just wrecked my new haul
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| Had to cut the dead weight, I ain’t no damn U-Haul
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| Long live K. O
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| It’s hard to spot the snakes when the grass grow
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| And everybody fake but it gon' soon show
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| The street dirty, what you think I keep a broom for?
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| Huh, all this damn pain, I be needin' medication
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| I ain’t need no education, I just stayed in rotation
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| Real nigga, never let a sucker violate me
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| I’m a grave digger, stop comparin' me to your big homie, bitch, I’m way bigger
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| Huh, ring on my finger, that shit way bigger
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| Huh, thinkin' they them nigga, bitch, we way bigger
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| Huh, huh, I had to cut lil' shorty off, that nigga too bitter
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| Before the song, I had no racks in the middle
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| Now I say big bankroll, can’t fit them racks in my denim
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| Ayy, my lil' rich ass bro been gettin' racks since he was little, huh
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| Me and money back to back splats, we was little, huh
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| Before I was the man, I was the man in the middle
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| Huh, before the bank juug, we had plans to get richer
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| Playin' with that pistol, I got a plan for my lil' one
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| They know I cashed out, I ain’t put down on no nothin', huh
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| Ain’t lookin' for no handout, no I don’t want nothin' from no nigga
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| Six years later, I got elevators
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| I got hella acres, nosy ass neighbors
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| I got my own label, huh
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| I don’t need no money machine, I count my own paper
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| Look, tell me why these so-called thugs act like they shootin' shit up
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| But niggas don’t got guns, these niggas so made up
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| Talk tough online, this niggas funny as fuck
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| Mm-mm |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Tragedy , by - YFN Lucci. Song from the album Wish Me Well 3, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп