Текст песни Mixed Emotions - Big Boogie

Mixed Emotions

CMG
Mhm
Big Dude
Mhm
Talk your shit, nigga
(Flowe Beatz did this)
Grrt
I thank God that I ain’t dead yet
I’m twenty-five and I’m living, I barely leg rest
The devil tryna fuck me off, that’s just a head test
I ain’t never been sour, so fuck who said that
My last bitch went federal, that’s my lil' fed ex
I’m on go from here on out, my shit ain’t rich yet
Nigga yelling, «Fuck Boogie,» I got 'em depressed
If you ever turned your back, you get a red check
It’s a difference when you solid, you can’t head rest
I know some niggas who don’t like me, I ain’t scared yet
My daughter finna be two, I’m spending meal checks
Free my niggas, they not here, they sending jail texts, frrt
Deep dark tint, big pistol, focused
Main nigga dissed me, I be catching loafin'
Came far from Frayser, I deserve a trophy
Waterproof diamonds, I be super soaky
Rough hands gentleman, don’t need no lotion
Kind-hearted nigga, I got mixed emotions
Bitches only want you if you having motion
Brother six feet, my insides broken (Q)
Wishing for the past, I be drinking potion
Knocking shit down, bowling pin, scoring
Killing all them opps, quiet, tippy-toeing
Bad bitch with me, she asked where I’m going
Murda Grape Street, them my babies, loose screws
Uzi on a nigga, baby, I know voodoo
Never run the beef, let that shit come to you
Try me, any word, they gon' put you up on the news
Ayy, Boogie, you got 'em hot (What I do?)
Rappers jealous 'cause I’m focused and they not
I got diamonds that shoot fire (Fire)
How I get on top? (What you do?)
They don’t like me 'cause I’m thuggin' and I’m hot
I got killers on the spot
Raris in the streets, no competing, they can’t stop
Chopper bullet flip it, phew, phew, that shit hot
Sinking from the bottom, I’m the young nigga on top
Boogie this, Boogie that the young nigga that’s popping
CMG member, T.I.P. be the gang, you can’t flop 'em
Niggas keyboard killers, in person, they’ll get shot
Ammo in my videos, ha-ha, they be proper
Pull up on the law, man, the narcs hit the block
I don’t fuck with rappers, all that bullshit they dropping
Reach his pogo sticks, they see diamonds, they gon' hop it
Chopper hand in China, you gon' get your ass chopped
You gon' get your ass dropped
I post my hitters on my main page
Seven thousand ring look like lemonade
Scars start aching on a rainy day
Hate to hear negative, need a hearing aid
Beat 'em like Jody, just lift your chin up, ooh
Murda forever, I throw them M’s up
When we do go live on camera, hold them hands up
Bitch, I’m rich, I got them bands up
Mmm (What you say now?)
Mmm (Why they hate now?)
Mmm (Throw them M’s up)
Mmm (Got my bands up)
Mmm (Shit do headshots)
Mmm (We go K shots)
Mmm (We got locations)
Mmm (Faces)
Go’n and swing that chopper, you gon' think it’s Kroger
Tell jit get on feet, go and stop his motor, yeah
We gon' turn him over
Big Dude