Rainy Days Lyrics

Aye...

I was stuck in that rain for some days

My money up... yea my pockets is great

Blowin him down if he get in the way

Roll up a spliff, cause that boy in the grave

That boy is a pack he got turnt to a strain

Ain't feelin to great cause i'm feeling this pain

I'm coming up and that's word to my gang

And fuck all them niggas who speak on my name

Fuck all them niggas who speak on the set

Talk hot, hit that boy in his chest

I got stripes, i ain't talkin no ref

Gun em down, no that vest don't protect

It's back to basics we runnin that bag up shit, we jus gotta be patient

Young lil nigga and i'm just paper chasin'

All them nights it was rainin'

Only 16

Infrared hallows aim at his bean

Mike amiri pockets full of that green

This shit scary things ain't as they seem

He causing a scene

7th grade i got sent to the dean

We was posted with them glocks and them beams

No plan b all i got is 1 dream

Fuck all the opps cause they not on my team

We spin through his block if them niggas want problems

Catch em at night yeah that boy we gon rob him

Me and lil bro we like batman and robin

If we send shots we gon hit ain't no dodging

Smoking this gas i'm just facing my problems

Roll up a spliff watch me sprinkle the grabba

Link up with gang all the hoes they gon holla

I love the money in love wit dem dollars

We was stuck in the rain...

I lost my grandma, my auntie, this shit ain't the same

I lost my buzzin, this shit is insane

I gotta be great so i'm stuck in my ways

I'm tired of pain... no these niggas do not feel what i'm sayin

Spin through his block late at night now he brainless

His momma cryin' we leaving her faceless

I was stuck in that rain for some days

My money up... yea my pockets is great

Blowin him down if he get in the way

Roll up a spliff, cause that boy in the grave

That boy is a pack he got turnt to a strain

Ain't feelin to great cause i'm feeling this pain

I'm coming up and that's word to my gang

And fuck all them niggas who speak on my name

Fuck all them niggas who speak on the set

Talk hot, hit that boy in his chest

Igot stripes, i ain't talkin no ref

Gun em down, no that vest don't protect

It's back to basics we runnin that bag up shit, we jus gotta be patient

Young lil nigga and i'm just paper chasin'

All them nights it was rainin'