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li rye - broken heart lyrics

[intro]
(mommy, india got the beats)
(ayo, keyz, make ’em feel it all)

[chorus]
caught in the way, one of my opps had caught three to the chest
we shoot at necks, so save your money, don’t even buy a vest
said you want smoke, just get in line and we gon’ whack you next
when i buy opps, i call my brothers ’cause they shoot the best
at the wake the only time them n+ggas get to rest (grrt)
b+tch, i’m a shooting star, i k!ll ’bout my respect
no ref, we ride with tec’s
out of bonds, catch ’em
like a pre+game warmup, we gon’ leave you stretched
[verse 1]
bodies droppin’ ’cause all my shooters clumsy
he dropped a diss, we wrapped his ass up like a f+cking mummy
head top, leave him brain dead, same n+gga say he a crash dummy
know n+ggas that won’t even die for theyself sayin’ they’ll k!ll for me
no construction work, i got some n+ggas that’s gon’ drill for me
he cracked a four, then died, i was cracking up when they k!lled buddy
that p+ssy n+gga dead, sh+t got me dead, that’s why it’s still funny
better have a rope around me than a thief ’cause it’s gon’ k!ll me if you steal from me
i broke her heart some years ‘go, wonder if she still love me
sent a text that i can help you put it back together
stood in the rain without a jacket or sweater
that sh+t had made me a man
bro got juvenile life, i just wrote him a letter
oh, ’bout love i don’t know
i’m in traffic sippin’ green right now, prolly why i been on go

[chorus]
caught in the way, one of my opps had caught three to the chest
we shoot at necks, so save your money, don’t even buy a vest
said you want smoke, just get in line and we gon’ whack you next
when i buy opps, i call my brothers ’cause they shoot the best
at the wake the only time them n+ggas get to rest (grrt)
b+tch, i’m a shooting star, i k!ll ’bout my respect
no ref, we ride with tec’s
out of bonds, catch ’em
like a pre+game warmup, we gon’ leave you stretched
[verse 2]
like a freaky b+tch, we get these n+ggas smashed any time of the day
i bought bilingual bullets for my chopper, it’s a russian k
got hollow tips on any glock that i clutch, this b+tch’ll eat your face
set him up with a ho, cremate the b+tch and throw him in a vase
he wasn’t no big opp, he was a lil’ dog, i could fit him in a urn
we call these glizzies fire ’cause these r.i.p. bullets rip and burn
might die, you missed a turn, i ain’t sparing children, never too young to die
i know i ain’t friends but once i die, i know i’m gon’ fry
‘fore i go, just look me in my eyes and don’t tell me a lie
poppin’ percocets to clear my mind, i try not to cry
lil’ b+tch told me that i caught her eye, i must look like a star
it ain’t no name on them bullets flyin’, either die or comply
my ex+b+tch keep callin’ me, why? you know that it’s too late for that
gotta pray, then he ain’t survive, i’ll never get that baby back
how she did me, know i hated that
been in h+ll and made it back
and my pants so big, my pockets fat
and these skinnies for a lot of racks

- li rye lyrics

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