Drug Damage lyrics

by

Yeat


[Intro]
Yeah, yeah
I got drug problems, brain damage
Yeah I woke up on a Percocet
They don't want my Oxy
Morning when the percs hit
Drug problem, brain damage
Brain damage, brain damage, yeah yeah
That's how I got racks up

[Chorus]
Yeah, walked in, walked in, no talking, sh*ttin' on 'em
Walked in, they gawking, got big bands, big tipping on 'em (Phew)
Last year, I was broke, I ain't lying, I'm being honest (Fact)
But they don't wanna hear the truth, they too defensive, I call that b*tch Giannis (Huh)
Pull up in that b*tch and throw some cash, put my bizzy on it (Word)
All my brothers get the same racks, I put my twizzy on it (Real)
How could I ever steal some swag, when they stole my style from me (Steal all my sh*t)
This b*tch ass kid who was hating, still wanted a song with me
I got drug problem, I got drug problem (Prob)
Got a drank problem, got a X problem, got a Oxy problem (Problem)
Got a Addy problem, (Yeah) got a whore problem, I don't (No), call them

[Verse]
You not my friend, get out my phone, that's why I block 'em
I be in my mental too much, that's why I got problems (That's it)
You call my phone, you need me (That mean sh*t)
Shut up, end up on the TV (Hey)
This the Cayenne, the one you said you love in rose gold (Skrr)
I'm not trying, but if I'm dying, yeah I still won't fold (Yeah)
Yeah, flying, I'm never driving, I'm on the road (Brr)
And it's private, the windows stylish, I dress my own (Own)
I hit Dover Street Market I'm in New York (York)
I hit, Helmut Lang, I'm in the store (Store)
Got the hoodie, they gon' throw me ten for four (Four)
Called my plug and told me I need something more (Dude)
This Oxy ain't hit like that no more (More)
Yeah, this drank ain't hitting like the more (More)
This ecstasy I'm taking, no more (Yeah)
She blame the drugs, but that lil' b*tch really just a whore
[Pre-Chorus]
See the hella high I get, I can't feel no more
b*tch a thotty sl*t, that b*tch a whore (Whore)
I got brain damage from all these drugs (Go)
She got lame, then I told the b*tch to cut it off
I can't feel no more, my car turn to Chrome Hearts
Twizzy keep that steel, he keep that metal, he keep them auto parts (Yeah)
Unloaded the clip, it- it hit him in 16 body parts
It's no more feeling in what I do, so I count my racks (Up-up-up)

[Chorus]
Yeah, walked in, walked in, no talking, sh*ttin' on 'em
Walked in, they gawking, got big bands, big tipping on 'em
Last year, I was broke, I ain't lying, I'm being honest (Fact)
But they don't wanna hear the truth, they too defensive, I call that b*tch Giannis (Huh)
Pull up in that b*tch and throw some cash, put my bizzy on it (Word)
All my brothers get the same racks, I put my twizzy on it
How could I ever steal some swag, when they stole my style from me (Stole my sh*t)
This b*tch ass kid who was hating, still wanted a song with me
I got drug problem, I got drug problem (Prob)
Got a drank problem, got a X problem, got a Oxy problem (Problem)
Got a Addy problem, got a whore problem, I don't (No), call them
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net