Ok I'm puffing on a blunt of that
Sticky green chronic sac
I done spent my last shiiiiid I can't even flip a pack
I been out here chasing scraps
My bitch be going tit for tat
Trippin on a nigga trap
But best believe I'm bouncing back
And I'm ridin Cadillac
Throw some Ds on that bitch
Eviction notice on my door
Threw my ass up out the shit
A nigga out here living broke
My credit score ain't got no hope
And niggas never what they claim to be but I'm like f*ck it tho
Lately I just pray for peace
Cuz don't nobody pray for me
Niggas jumping ship for free
I wonder why the envy me
But f*ck them niggas c'est la vie
Dont care bout what they say about me
Don't play bout mine we play fo keeps
Cross that line I bet you see
Clutch my pistol when I sleep got paranoia from weed
Don't hardly eat I'm feeling weak down and out off my feet
But asking for no sympathy rather die than beg and plead
My heart ain't pumping nothing sweet you niggas looking mighty weak
I was down bad outta job on my ass smoking dime bags
Baby mama steady hollering bout some Prada bags
But I ain't even got a dollar for a tank of gas
I'm out here doing bad
What's the issue, get ya issue
Down bad
I'm a get it wit the work or wit the pistol
Cop a quarter pound a cookies
24 I'm on the whistle
We got the stripes paid off the play official
Tryna come up on a bag like f*ck a Prada purse
Shawty left a nigga down bad
She gotta lotta nerve
Break the whole cutie down
We got a lot to serve
Put that work in from the Tre' like I was Larry Bird
Boston Garden wit the green leaves
Blunts thick as Draymond
Lead the team like Mateen Cleaves
Final Four wit these hoes 5 gotta go
Spark the Garcia Vega then I'm vomanos
Made a living off the Mary moved a lot of dope
Chasin' Power like Tarique but you ain't gotta Ghost
Was on my ass, but now I gotta scope
Already bought a foreign now I'm tryna cop a ghost
I was down bad outta job on my ass smoking dime bags
Baby mama steady hollering bout some Prada bags
But I ain't even got a dollar for a tank of gas
I'm out here doing bad
Down Bad (feat. Truth Hayes) Video (MV)
Performed By: Paid in Amerikkka
Length: 3:39
Written by: Amina Patterson, Carvon Gray, John Cooper, Olin McGhie
Paid in Amerikkka - Down Bad (feat. Truth Hayes) Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Ok I'm puffing on a blunt of that
Sticky green chronic sac
I done spent my last shiiiiid I can't even flip a pack
I been out here chasing scraps
My bitch be going tit for tat
Trippin on a nigga trap
But best believe I'm bouncing back
And I'm ridin Cadillac
Throw some Ds on that bitch
Eviction notice on my door
Threw my ass up out the shit
A nigga out here living broke
My credit score ain't got no hope
And niggas never what they claim to be but I'm like f*ck it tho
Lately I just pray for peace
Cuz don't nobody pray for me
Niggas jumping ship for free
I wonder why the envy me
But f*ck them niggas c'est la vie
Dont care bout what they say about me
Don't play bout mine we play fo keeps
Cross that line I bet you see
Clutch my pistol when I sleep got paranoia from weed
Don't hardly eat I'm feeling weak down and out off my feet
But asking for no sympathy rather die than beg and plead
My heart ain't pumping nothing sweet you niggas looking mighty weak
I was down bad outta job on my ass smoking dime bags
Baby mama steady hollering bout some Prada bags
But I ain't even got a dollar for a tank of gas
I'm out here doing bad
What's the issue, get ya issue
Down bad
I'm a get it wit the work or wit the pistol
Cop a quarter pound a cookies
24 I'm on the whistle
We got the stripes paid off the play official
Tryna come up on a bag like f*ck a Prada purse
Shawty left a nigga down bad
She gotta lotta nerve
Break the whole cutie down
We got a lot to serve
Put that work in from the Tre' like I was Larry Bird
Boston Garden wit the green leaves
Blunts thick as Draymond
Lead the team like Mateen Cleaves
Final Four wit these hoes 5 gotta go
Spark the Garcia Vega then I'm vomanos
Made a living off the Mary moved a lot of dope
Chasin' Power like Tarique but you ain't gotta Ghost
Was on my ass, but now I gotta scope
Already bought a foreign now I'm tryna cop a ghost
I was down bad outta job on my ass smoking dime bags
Baby mama steady hollering bout some Prada bags
But I ain't even got a dollar for a tank of gas
I'm out here doing bad
Sticky green chronic sac
I done spent my last shiiiiid I can't even flip a pack
I been out here chasing scraps
My bitch be going tit for tat
Trippin on a nigga trap
But best believe I'm bouncing back
And I'm ridin Cadillac
Throw some Ds on that bitch
Eviction notice on my door
Threw my ass up out the shit
A nigga out here living broke
My credit score ain't got no hope
And niggas never what they claim to be but I'm like f*ck it tho
Lately I just pray for peace
Cuz don't nobody pray for me
Niggas jumping ship for free
I wonder why the envy me
But f*ck them niggas c'est la vie
Dont care bout what they say about me
Don't play bout mine we play fo keeps
Cross that line I bet you see
Clutch my pistol when I sleep got paranoia from weed
Don't hardly eat I'm feeling weak down and out off my feet
But asking for no sympathy rather die than beg and plead
My heart ain't pumping nothing sweet you niggas looking mighty weak
I was down bad outta job on my ass smoking dime bags
Baby mama steady hollering bout some Prada bags
But I ain't even got a dollar for a tank of gas
I'm out here doing bad
What's the issue, get ya issue
Down bad
I'm a get it wit the work or wit the pistol
Cop a quarter pound a cookies
24 I'm on the whistle
We got the stripes paid off the play official
Tryna come up on a bag like f*ck a Prada purse
Shawty left a nigga down bad
She gotta lotta nerve
Break the whole cutie down
We got a lot to serve
Put that work in from the Tre' like I was Larry Bird
Boston Garden wit the green leaves
Blunts thick as Draymond
Lead the team like Mateen Cleaves
Final Four wit these hoes 5 gotta go
Spark the Garcia Vega then I'm vomanos
Made a living off the Mary moved a lot of dope
Chasin' Power like Tarique but you ain't gotta Ghost
Was on my ass, but now I gotta scope
Already bought a foreign now I'm tryna cop a ghost
I was down bad outta job on my ass smoking dime bags
Baby mama steady hollering bout some Prada bags
But I ain't even got a dollar for a tank of gas
I'm out here doing bad
Writer: Amina Patterson, Carvon Gray, John Cooper, Olin McGhie
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid