Letra Draft pick Aj Tracey

Draft pick

(As a youth in sports in college)
(I never made that draft)
(I was in the bad ting, gainin' knowledge)
(Tryna split that 'caine in half)
Look

As a yout did sports in college
I never made that draft
I was in the bad ting, gainin' knowledge
Tryna split that 'caine in half
Could've went state-side, but I weren't on it
Me and bro had to hit that graft
You can keep that deal, I don't want it
I can stretch to make it last
I stepped out of the pub, 'cause he raised the price
I don't owe him, G
American tings with the Rambo life, she said "OMG"
I'm in old mans kitchen workin' whit?, put the O in G's
I made a million quid, and I still got my ying
That's the groov? in me (Traceo)

The ends raised man wrong and right
See, I know what's right and wrong
But I still gave brodie the .44 long
And I wish that was just for a song
But the block that we hugged, these kids don't know
Their best man could go snitch
I had no help when I was broke
But they want my help now the kid got rich
I seen kids that take out ribs like Georges Christen [?]
I know people ****
Who just wanna put more tape on strips
You can't impress man with sticks
My team got kids with extendo clips
I don't care 'bout indirects, live and direct
When I'm at man's crib
I'm in a west-end two-man deep three yings
Don't judge me, I love my life
I told mum "I won't slip and die"
So I stay with pack when the block's to fire
Only thing I leave my crib for a check or a plaque
How many more hits can I get?
You niggas come like Steph Curry
With the verbal flex that's nothin' but net

As a yout did sports in college
I never made that draft
I was in the bad ting, gainin' knowledge
Tryna split that 'caine in half
Could've went state-side, but I weren't on it
Me and bro went to hit that graft
You can keep that deal, I don't want it
I suggest you get lost
I stepped out of the pub, 'cause he raised the price
I don't owe him, G
American tings with the Rambo life, she said "OMG"
I'm in a old man's kitchen workin' white, put the O in G's
I made a million quid, and I still got my ying
That's the groove in me

I did five-hundred-million streams in a year
I don't think I'm clear, but, let me just be clear
We made mills in months, we keep one near
Me and D almost caught one live on a maze
One bust for the youth right here (Why?)
Cah they would've have madem [?] three moms doin' up tears
I get faked by the steps I take and the moves I make
Made enough room, but I had no cake
Know a nigga show love, but I know shit's fake
Man want his head
Man want a handout
Man want a gun
Man want the bands out
Man want soul
Man want a send-out
Man said I sold-out
Can't get the fans out
Spent like a hundred racks on kicks
And I might go [?] empty
Mix it, don't tempt me
My opps they mad, cah their ice is empty
Tell these niggas that's screamin' my name
To check, man, I hope they're chattin' [?]
Don't like 'em, I [?] won't save you

As a youth in sports in college
I never made that draft
I was in the bad ting, gainin' knowledge
Tryna split that 'caine in half
Could've went state-side, but I weren't on it
Me and bro went to hit that craft
You can keep that deal, I don't want it
I suggest you get lost
I stepped out of the pub, 'cause he raised the price
I don't owe him, G
American tings with the Rambo life, she said "OMG"
I'm in a old man's kitchen workin' white, put the O in G's
I made a million quid, and I still got my ying
That's the groove in me

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