Dead To Me
Yung Shah
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Lyrics
I'm with the rappers and the trappers from the sewer
Shit crazy think we criminals we just entrepreneurs
My wrist shine like ice box don't need no cooler
Shit get crazy I know bronem blow that Ruger
I'm with the rappers and the trappers from the sewer
Shit crazy think we criminals we just entrepreneurs
My wrist shine like ice box I don't need no cooler
Shit get crazy I know bronem blow that fucking Ruger
I know all the ones I cut off failed me they all dead to me
And you know that you my dog if you mean more than bread to me
I just cashed out on some ink I got the hustle recipe
I hold the bottle up for Brogan poured out all the Hennessy
I been hustling and moving shit you best stay in your lane
I been struggling need something new to help me numb the pain
Contemplated suicide thought to myself I won't make it
Now it's right in front of me and y'all best know that I'm gon take it
Started from a dime bag shit done turned to units
Stuck to my brothers like a name tag can't be out here moving foolish
I need clarity not rehab I been so stuck in my ways
She wanna marry me don't need that sorry shawty ain't no way
She tryna date a rockstar we on a different page
So high meditating off the gas feel like a sage
Remember washing dishes for minimum wage
Now these racks come in I count em put a smile up on my face
Shit my heart broke too many times and I done heard too many cries
They make it seem like they my day ones in reality they lie
I pour bourbon in my sour I put liquor on the ice
I'm smoking cat piss this some gas ain't never smoke no fucking spice
I'm with the rappers and the trappers from the sewer
Shit crazy think we criminals we just entrepreneurs
My wrist shine like ice box I don't need no cooler
Shit get crazy I know bronem blow that fucking Ruger
I know all the ones I cut off failed me they all dead to me
And you know that you my dog if you mean more than bread to me
I just cashed out on some ink I got the hustle recipe
I hold the bottle up for Brogan poured out all the Hennessy
Parking the car I'm hopping out with that machete
If they keep on playing with me slice em up just like a deli
I got hella gas up in my fucking car shit smelling dank
I spent racks for these four wheels ain't need no job I'm making bank
I got my burner on my side the clock hit midnight we gon ride
If I'm down bad she still slide I might just make that girl my wife
I be running up the digits for my fucking brother Brogan
Feel like nothing helps this emptiness inside I think I'm broken