Went Left lyrics

[Part I]

[Intro: 03 Greedo]
Mmm
I ain't mean to make you sad
(Helluva made this beat, baby)

[Chorus: 03 Greedo]
I ain’t mean to make you sad
But I can be yo' baby dad
I ain't mean to make you sad
I ain’t mean to make you sad
I can be yo' baby dad
I ain't mean to make you sad
Be, be 'bout me
Nah, for real
You know how it feel
You know how it deal
All my n*ggas, they gon' kill

[Post-Chorus: 03 Greedo]
Only hit yo' phone when I need that (For real)
Please, don't tell me nothin', ain’t no feedback
Only hit yo’ phone when I need that (Yeah)
Please, don't tell me nothin’, ain't no feedback
[Verse: 03 Greedo]
Never sendin' me her lo' when she get back at home
That’s how a real n*gga know that she don't live alone
And I don't even understand the sh*t she goin' through
But the sh*t went left, he went through her phone (f*ck the fire, we got grease)

[Part II]

[Intro: 03 Greedo]
f*ck with my children
(Southside sh*t)

[Verse 1: G Herbo & 03 Greedo]
Ayy
We'll make your block hot, chop blow torpedo (Yeah, yeah-yeah)
Catch a body, seven shots, make it even, throw three more (Yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah)
I'm a killer and he know
That's on Rock, on Vedo (Yeah-yeah)
Pull up Watts with Greedo
I guap rapido (Yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah)
Rapido, real fast, I get cash (Mmm)
Ayy, any state, send a bag, get on yo' ass, ayy (Mmm, pus*y)
Drench, drench, empty mags, make your hood sad (Mmm)
n*ggas snitch on interviews, I ain't doin' Vlad (Mmm)

[Verse 2: 03 Greedo & G Herbo]
Drop a bag, get up chip, why they call you Cheeto (Yeah)
Drop the big heads, I'll get rid of some people (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah)
In the jail, I'm poppin' tags, got all these n*ggas mad (Yeah-yeah)
Rob a pus*y n*gga in a Margiela mask
California earthquake, get yo' head cracked (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah)
Windy City with the blower, blow yo' sh*t back (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah)
Choppa curl a buff n*gga up like a six pack
Four lines of Wock', two of 'Tuss, that's a six pack (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah)
Drummer Gang, we millionaires, you never get your b*tch back
This is not the internet, we never do no chit-chat (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah)
I don't do no talkin' in New York, always just say less
All Balenciaga (Yeah), 'member I was just at Payless, yeah
[Verse 3: G Herbo]
Burner phones got group chats, all gang threats
No two opps got stretched off the same text
b*tches kissin', lickin' same sex, that's insane sex
Before I went and bought a Range, n*ggas knew about that Lex' (Uh-huh)
Sixteen in that Lex' (Uh), red beams in effect (Grrt)
Z06 Corvettes (Skrrt), C-Money green Rolex
If they throw at us, throw back
All black like Malcolm X
I don't even stress if it ain't 'bout a check, f*ck n*gga
Lot of days I got' take to the grave, you know that's stuck with us (Gang)
Pull up, dump, Mossberg pump, Milwaukee Bucks hit him
Ho you lovin' pull up when I tell her 'cause you nut quicker (Lame)
Plus, I'm rockin' more chains than a slave like a young n*gga (Swerve)

[Verse 4: 03 Greedo]
Yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah)
Shoot a n*gga in the head, now he dead (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah)
Drummer Gang, millionaires, we get bread (Shoot him in the head)
I'm a real street n*gga, don't do fed
Any n*gga that was sayin' I snitched
I'll leave a n*gga body in a ditch (Ayy)
I'll never beef with n*ggas 'bout a b*tch
I'm a real street n*gga, you a b*tch
Ho-ass n*gga, I get dough-ass n*gga
You ain't never got no money out no ho-ass n*gga
You ain't never in the projects with no pole-ass n*gga
You ain't never up in them 'partments on the floor-ass n*gga
You ain't never made no
n*gga, dough-ass n*gga
You ain't never made no dough-ass n*gga
You ain't never made no dough-ass n*gga
And I know that you a ho-ass n*gga