don't cry over spilled milk Lyrics

Yeah, this shit right here

aww shit

Fuck I look like crying over some spilled Milk

I done walked up in this bitch and watched the heads tilt

My shooters steppin' in your home just like a ant hill

How I'm Dana's only boy, but still the man still? (yup)

Man chill, watch out for the feds still (federales)

Tried to fucking stop me, I'm too damn real (real)

Ya'll niggas what coulda been but I'd rather die and lose it all than to turn into a Grant Hill

And that's for anybody steppin' in the way

Eye contact when she naked on the stage

Eyes roll back when I hit her with the (Ayy)

That's the type of mosh pit that make a nigga wanna rage (yay yay yay yay)

I ain't gonna hold you bad to the bone

It's a inside job I'm taking you home

I'm just tryna ease my mind a little; The time is brittle

Just focus on the don a little, it's done

Watch the heads roll and then fall off

All these snake niggas praying that I fall off

Boy he got a million dollars in them call logs

I done put too much work to fucking call off

Yeah all off nigga goin all off

When the shit get hot I watch 'em log off

Whole team full of hitters like a walk-off

You know it's fuck the world

Yeah it's raw dawg

This shit right here

This shit right here

Th-th-this shit right here

This shit right here

Yeah, turn me up

It been plenty long years I done came a long way from that young little boy feeling so pure

But did I fall off nigga no sir

Only thing fake 'bout my whole cure

Is I been wearing fake smiles like it's couture

Uh, sick world and it's no cure

Shit got me feeling unsure

And I been moving like a monster

So my trap phone booming like thunder

Flashback, me and Jorgey plot recordings

Back and forth to Austin-Houston, Houston-New Orleans

Back when I would sip on oil it got me feeling like a Houston Oiler

I been making bands off of YouTube

Popping more xans than I'm use to

Can't stay connected like the bluetooth so I got way less friends than I'm used to

Uh, and any nigga with a issue we got a magazine for 'em

Zo gone let the Glock

You better find your way out

Your better learn how to run

You better walk away

You better walk away

You better find your way out

Your better learn how to run

You better walk away

You better walk away