Songtext zu 'Came True' von Travis Thompson

I said I get it, then I get further, make sure that sip's worth it
I'm somewhere losing trust and sippin' with the spliffs burning
I'm off the shifts lurking, get up then I get earnings
In and out of dorm rooms, bitches singing like it's Pitch Perfect (ooh)
I'm a different kinda icon
Move around a party with a duffel full of pipe bombs
Like, fuck what y'all be hyped on, twirlin’ fettuccine white sauce
I got Nelly on my iPod in this sauna with my ice on (ayy)
Steppin' crucially, movin' like nothin' new to me
And the booty clutch on, every script on my YouTube link
Like who is this? Boy, it's me, 'bout it since the booster seat
Clutch handles with them hangers 'cause fuck it this car ain’t moved in weeks
I'm from the part of town where Mexicans and [?] be
Shoelace belt on TV 'cause I'll never lose the youth in me
I truthanize a goofy bitch who don't know what I'm soon to be
Truman with a Buddhist priest who can't wait for the new khalifa
And that's the, that's the way it's gotta be
I do my thang and get my check for any widow [?] me
They used to clap for Compton's missing, now they ask for offerings
So if you ask what this shit like I'm just gon' answer honestly

I said, no fair fights for a smart mouth (nope)
Can't nobody get a dollar out of me (motherfucker)
Gettin' faded, bendin' corners by the courthouse (whoo)
While I'm reppin', yellin': Let my cousin free!
And then I asked 'em: Why would God make you?
Can I tell 'em: Why would God make you?
If he loved you, why would God make you?
I used to tweet it and it all came true
Can I tell 'em?

They be talkin' scene shit, like I give a fuck, bitch
I'm still doing dirt with all the kids that I grew up with
I'm still on my fuck shit, switch guts my rug sit
They feel ways, don't say much, tour bus where my nuts is
And it feel great when they teeth grit, still pacin' my scene split
Sip straight for like four nights, I can't see much but I see this
So your team is fake, your lean is fake, your Beemer rented
Couldn't fool me if you do that shit
Anything you're trying, man, I do that shit
Everywhere I'm going be like: Who that is?
Yo, got me highly fucked up askin’ for more
Knock on the pearly gates like: Why y'all gotta hassle me for?
I'm an assassin of sorts, I got the faculty floored
I sit my Indian poise and puke out the passenger door
I learned real early in life how to turn your racks into more
But I done burst every brain cell boxin' my half and a four
So I can't focus for shit, I pull up dough low to arenas by my lonesome and sit
I'm hard up holdin' my dick, bitch

I said, no fair fights for a smart mouth (nope)
Can't nobody get a dollar out of me (motherfucker)
Gettin' faded, bendin' corners by the courthouse (whoo)
While I'm reppin', yellin': Let my cousin free!
And then I asked 'em: Why would God make you?
Can I tell 'em: Why would God make you?
If he loved you, why would God make you?
I used to tweet it and it all came true
Can I tell 'em?

Damn, bro, you can’t even pick up anymore?
I'm not trippin', I'm not worried about it dog
I just called to say I say I saw your last picture on Instagram
You really weren’t kidding
When you said you looked like Andy Milonakes with bell fucking flag (?), huh?
Damn, bro, and I swear you’re gettin’ bigger, too, this money got you eatin', huh?
Yeah, you’re built like Aretha Franklin, homie