Tragedy - YFN Lucci, Bigga Rankin

The tragedy in a man’s life

Is not having lived while you was alive

Learnin' to love and lose is a part of life

It’s never having loved anyone or anything

That’s the biggest loss of all

Wish Me Well 3, the streets is waitin' (yeah)

Look, never put your trust in a nigga, my mama told me that

I can’t do no dirt with you niggas, you can’t wait to rat

Big homie keep sayin' he got me, I can’t wait on that

No offence, but I’ma go get mine, just pray I make it back

Okay, my main man down, lil' brother died and he won’t pay back

Hey, ever seen a grown man cry in a Maybach?

Talkin' to God, the hood do anything to have Lay back

Lord know we’ll do anything to have Quay back

Look, free dog, John Kenny, I can’t wait to see y’all

Miss me with that sucker shit, but don’t piss me off

Look, we ain’t duckin' no wreck, I just wrecked my new haul

Had to cut the dead weight, I ain’t no damn U-Haul

Long live K. O

It’s hard to spot the snakes when the grass grow

And everybody fake but it gon' soon show

The street dirty, what you think I keep a broom for?

Huh, all this damn pain, I be needin' medication

I ain’t need no education, I just stayed in rotation

Real nigga, never let a sucker violate me

I’m a grave digger, stop comparin' me to your big homie, bitch, I’m way bigger

Huh, ring on my finger, that shit way bigger

Huh, thinkin' they them nigga, bitch, we way bigger

Huh, huh, I had to cut lil' shorty off, that nigga too bitter

Before the song, I had no racks in the middle

Now I say big bankroll, can’t fit them racks in my denim

Ayy, my lil' rich ass bro been gettin' racks since he was little, huh

Me and money back to back splats, we was little, huh

Before I was the man, I was the man in the middle

Huh, before the bank juug, we had plans to get richer

Playin' with that pistol, I got a plan for my lil' one

They know I cashed out, I ain’t put down on no nothin', huh

Ain’t lookin' for no handout, no I don’t want nothin' from no nigga

Six years later, I got elevators

I got hella acres, nosy ass neighbors

I got my own label, huh

I don’t need no money machine, I count my own paper

Look, tell me why these so-called thugs act like they shootin' shit up

But niggas don’t got guns, these niggas so made up

Talk tough online, this niggas funny as fuck

Mm-mm