Lyrics War Stories (feat. Calboy & Slatt Zy) - TM88 , Calboy , Slatt Zy
Look
up
to
my
fallen
soldiers
every
morning
If
you
knew
what
I
did
in
these
streets
you
wouldn't
adore
me
Spend
a
hundred
racks
on
Mike
Amiri
jeans,
it
don't
get
boring,
aye
And
I
made
it
out
them
trenches,
I
got
war
stories,
aye
We
was
just
in
the
field
like
we
playin'
baseball,
aye
On
the
block
with
a
big
Glock
and
an
eight
ball,
aye
Mama
mad,
she
just
want
me
to
get
a
day
job
With
a
mask
on
and
my
hoodie
up
like
Trayvon
In
the
tinted
whip
with
a
big
Draco,
an
AR
I
was
poppin'
a
whole
lotta
Xanny
pills
for
the
anger
I
know
the
opps
was
sendin'
them
shots,
but
nigga,
your
aim
off,
aye
They
turned
me
to
a
lil'
savage,
nigga,
I
blame
y'all
(blame
y'all)
You
know
I
grip
on
this
ratchet,
tool
can
get
flamed
off
(get
flamed
off)
All
of
my
lil'
niggas
slide,
and
boy,
you
in
danger
(boy,
you
in
danger)
She
give
me
top
while
I'm
driving,
I'm
in
a
ranger
(I'm
in
a
ranger)
Most
of
these
bitches
be
actin',
they
showing
fake
love
(fake
love)
Shut
up,
nigga,
listen,
I
paint
vivid
pictures,
aye
Niggas
looking
at
me
different,
I
can
feel
attention,
aye
(feel
attention)
We
was
like
15
totin'
blicks
and
gettin'
suspended
Way
too
focused
on
gettin'
this
money,
bitch,
I'm
out
here
gettin'
it
(bitch,
I'm
out
here)
Look
up
to
my
fallen
soldiers
every
morning
If
you
knew
what
I
did
in
these
streets
you
wouldn't
adore
me
Spend
a
hundred
racks
on
Mike
Amiri
jeans,
it
don't
get
boring,
aye
And
I
made
it
out
them
trenches,
I
got
war
stories,
aye
We
was
just
in
the
field
like
we
playin'
baseball,
aye
On
the
block
with
a
big
Glock
and
an
eight
ball,
aye
Mama
mad,
she
just
want
me
to
get
a
day
job
With
a
mask
on
and
my
hoodie
up
like
Trayvon
Stick
on
me,
no
eight
ball
These
fuck
niggas,
they
play
hard
Not
a
by-hitter
had
to
work
a
day
job
I
don't
see
niggas
like
Ray
Charles
I
was,
um,
kicked
out
of
school
Young
nigga
clutchin'
on
the
tools
May
have
a
clue
to
know
what
to
do
Bitch,
I
go
to
school
where
my
brothers
shoot
When
I'm
17
and
I'm
feeling
used
Hurt
my
fucking
heart,
I
put
you
on
the
news
Before
I
self-destruct,
bitch,
I'ma
bust
one
of
these
tools
I
been
scarred
my
whole
damn
life,
bitch,
you
can
probably
see
the
proof
Now
I
got
back
on
my
shit,
I
had
a
lot
of
shit
to
prove,
yeah
Load
up
the
clip,
put
one
in
the
head,
I
had
to
show
how
we
livin'
It
ain't
my
fault,
we
from
the
hood
so
we
was
raised
around
killin'
My
heart
been
broken
for
a
minute,
ain't
no
need
for
the
healin'
Zeze,
he
really
in
these
streets,
he
find
this
street
shit
appealing
Look
up
to
my
fallen
soldiers
every
morning
If
you
knew
what
I
did
in
these
streets
you
wouldn't
adore
me
Spend
a
hundred
racks
on
Mike
Amiri
jeans,
it
don't
get
boring,
aye
And
I
made
it
out
them
trenches,
I
got
war
stories,
aye
We
was
just
in
the
field
like
we
playin'
baseball,
aye
On
the
block
with
a
big
Glock
and
an
eight
ball,
aye
Mama
mad,
she
just
want
me
to
get
a
day
job
With
a
mask
on
and
my
hoodie
up
like
Trayvon
![Tm88 feat. Calboy & Slatt Zy - War Stories (feat. Calboy & Slatt Zy) - Single](https://pic.Lyrhub.com/img/e/3/j/8/os92n_8j3e.jpg)
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