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lirik lagu wishin’ death on me – nfg duck

drum dummie

and these n*ggas out here steady wishin death on me
and it’s probably cuz they know that i could step on em
nfg i’m seeing red homie

(fa, fa)

long live sk you heard me look
sme in the motherf*cking building look

check me

say i was down bad struggling on my d*ck looking for a front
temember days steady tryna hustle just to smoke a blunt
now i’m grinding i’m tryna shine like a f*ckin star
so if i tell you that i love you just respect my heart

and if you give a b*tch a inch she gon take it far
so if you give a b*tch a pinch she gone want it all
birkin bags & red bottoms what they chasin for
but i just want some rеal love that’s what i’m waiting for
but f*ck committing i don’t trust cuz everybody fold
f*cking up my brain smoking dopе at only 9 years old
where i’m from we solve our problems ain’t no calling troll
i’m sh*tting on these n*ggas i got paper and it’s on a roll

i was lacking ambition
but i was born with visions
of being richer than pippen
im slurring words off this biscotti
i been on a mission
to give my mama a kitchen
in a mansion that’s hidden
so she won’t have to worry why

in my city n*ggas steady wishing death on me
yeah it’s prolly cuz they know that i could step on em
i ain’t trippin im on my way to living better homie
but i’m from florida where you gotta keep a weapon on ya
heart cold so you know i got a sweater on it
i know how it feels to lose a brother homie
why ohhh does it never get no better
only god knows how many more is they gon take from me

i couldn’t even cry or say good bye when lil jalah passed
say death been knocking on my door grim reaper on my ass
say i been tryna keep it hype but i been in my bag
skrt off in the srt with q 120 on the dash
and i don’t bang but i’m gon’ die bout my respect
if a p*ssy n*gga diss me we gon’ slide it ain’t no stress
he put three 7s on his neck take off 15 and what you get?
7.62 hollow points we punching bullets through yo chest boy f*ck a vest

f*ck dat triple 7 sh*t
i’m nfg as f*ck
i’ll set it off in this b*tch
so if it’s up it’s stuck
don’t give a f*ck about no n*gga bet not try ya luck
i’ll crash out in this b*tch just like i did the truck

say mike was jiggin off dem bars and now he scared of death
the grim reaper in his face and he could smell his breath
and all them n*ggas think he hard ill smack him with this left
i got some sh*t i need to say let’s get it off my chest

boy you a b*tch and you know it i don’t have to tell you
whole hoe up in these streets jus like some dope i’ll sell you
you don’t know i touched some bread i rock that heavy metal
run up on me if you want b*tch you gon meet the devil

you “da kid” who be running on them fake straps
you “da kid” who be talking like he on that
say you “da kid” p*ssy n*gga you gon shake back
now you triple 7 something i can’t say that
you heard
….

- nfg duck

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