lirik lagu bring the pain – 38 spesh
[intro: grafh]
gang sh*t (woo!), ay, wassup? my name grafh, ho
team bang, doe, gang with a thang, ho
trust, haha, ay
thirty*thirty eight special, 38 spesh
thirty*thirty eight special, 38 spesh
thirty*thirty eight, 38 (blrrrt)
[verse 1: grafh]
ay, you n*ggas want views instead of talent
hot or cold, you cook up the soup instead of salad
but you choose what you think is the truth instead of valid
trill n*gga, more dj screw instead of khalid
on my “we the best” thang
but i’m all young jeezy in a bmf chain
i’m all big body benz in that cls thang
thousand grammys of white girl on a pms thang
i’m all the one to bust in your boo face, crazy
she wiping her eyebrows down * blueface, baby
yeah, aight, i move way crazy
i say “trap”, you say “bakery”
i’m a movie, i’m blu*ray wavy, you a bootleg
adieu, bae, grab me the souffle; in the stu’, stay gravy
i am marcy projects bricks in a suitcase, jay*z
you can’t new*age play me when kool*aid raised me
i’m from the era where the fiends used to two*way page me
‘cause i proved the heroin age do make babies
touche, my dope the color of d’usse, baby
from tuesday to tuesday, baby
what up, doe?
[verse 2: cory gunz]
i’m one of the popular lesser*knowns
that inspired a deck of clones, with enough fire to stretch your bones
who trying to fetch your loan? you’re throwing rocks, not checking homes
before i catch a stone you’ll catch a chrome
it’s always a n*gga with the reckless tone
get ran down, want to check his phone
get wet when the vex is shown
i grew up where it’s not an exit [?], but move where a lot of jets is flown
improve here, a lot of sets get stolen, shoot fair, a lot of vets get thrown
from roots, fear none of your threats, i’m grown
’cause truth is, for necks and domes i’m hitting harder than your ex*b*tch phone
it’s like a g*ngb*ng soon as i bang*bang
just when you thought she was over is when all of the rest get blown, n*gga
my role model was a dusthead
my other ones i can’t talk about are just dead
she got a n*gga but that’s not what her b*tt said
opposite of blue b*lls, she ride ’til my nuts red
i’m a mental, sick n*gga with a flushed head
and you pencil*d*ck n*ggas wouldn’t bust lead
f*ck the top of the charts, long as eggs on top of the cart, i ain’t never mind crushed bread
i sleep something then i just bed
forget about it quicker than what i just said
i just hear the door slam and the truck sped
it’s real when even n*ggas with luck bled
she want to get in a sandwich ‘cause i touch bread
but i ain’t trying to get jammed b*tch, just spread
[outro: 38 spesh]
huh, and that’s how you motherf*ckin’ rap, man
shout out to grafh and cory gunz, man
i appreciate y’all coming through, trust
huh
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