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young lito - pain lyrics
[intro]
when it’s on we don’t talk, my n-ggas aiming
man down, we don’t care what the f-ck you’re claiming
chopper rounds wet his t, just like it’s raining
all my n-ggas ridin’ around putting f-cking pain in
[x2]
[hook]
(work!)
pain in, my shooters putting pain in
(work!)
pain in, my shooters putting pain in
(work!)
pain in, my shooters putting pain in
all my n-ggas ridin’ around putting f-cking pain in
[verse 1]
young, fly n-gga, catch me in the coupe
bet i keep me a couple youngins that be itching to shoot
see me i’m the head of my troops
i might send them in groups
and tell them run in your crib and just knock off your roof
‘cause i’m a boss, n-gga
but i’m known to let the [retti?] spray
but keep a shooter on deck like battier
my young n-gga’s itching, he just wants to grab the k
and give you clips early while you’re trying to catch the matinee
gun ‘em down, that’s what i call a sat-rday
when i’m around, it’s only real gs with me
a couple brick dealers and k!llers with no twitters
but one thing that ain’t around me is no broke n-ggas
we get the money, and it flows like a faucet, n-gga
i got the money that makes a k!ller off a n-gga
since [low?] died i ain’t been the same, i lost it n-gga
so when it’s on we don’t play, it’s like a forfeit n-gga
[bridge]
when it’s on we don’t talk, my n-ggas aiming
man down, we don’t care what the f-ck you’re claiming
chopper rounds wet his t, just like it’s raining
all my n-ggas ridin’ around putting f-cking pain in
[hook]
[verse 2]
i’m from a small block, these n-ggas can’t ride through
they’ll get a mac in their window, no drive-thru
i’m five-five but that chopper like five-two
one hundred shots, i can’t miss you if i tried to
i’ll put a price on your head, [?]
i’ll get you hit by the n-ggas standing by you
i ain’t a street fighter, i’m no ryu
i’ll send some heat by yuh, bullets ’ll fry you
i’m young and thugging in designer sh-t
my fendi denim’s kind of snug, but that (lama?) fit
my main b-tch says i’m buggin’ but i’m trying to quit
but when n-ggas start to frontin’ then that llama spit
bang! (bang)
what can i say? i’m just a young ‘ville n-gga
we don’t squash beef here, we just k!ll n-ggas
free phatz and lu, young real n-ggas
[e and beasley?] too, free my little n-ggas
[bridge]
[outro]
work, pain in, pain in
(my shooter’s putting pain in)
work, pain in, pain in
(my shooter’s putting pain in)
work, pain in, pain in
all my n-ggas ridin’ around putting f-cking pain in
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