Letra de Admit It - Foolio

(Dremore Banks)

You just gotta hear my story

You just gotta understand before you say you hate me

You gotta read the book before you judge the cover

Listen closely

Life full of riddles

Don't skip over nothing, read closely

6

I don' took losses, I can admit it

Heart of the trap, I'm stuck in the trenches

Almost died, crazy decions

I'm finna blow, I can just feel it

I catch a (uhh), I'mma just kill it

Booked up, won't say nun, my lips I seal 'em

Blind man reading, I can just feel 'em

If you a threat then we gon' kill you

L-O-V-E 4L, I love that brand new gun smell

Broke my heart, what the fuck, I ain't no [?] was gon' tell

Thought I knew him so well, used to send him jail mail

Stab me in the back with them same scissors I cut off ties, oh well

I'm tryna run up them digits, won't stop 'til I got thirty million

Big bruh fell in love with the trap, that boy had married kitchen

Fell in love my gun, I grip it, I fuckin' lay down with it

Get caught, I lay down with it, go to the jail, I ain't doin' no switching

Kshordy that's my lil' brodie, Kenny K told me take it slowly

These blogs all in our business, they actin' like the know us

If either one of us die, they just gon' laugh and post it

Bitch, I'mma go out blowing, for 'Dre the whole gang scoin'

Pull a million on my new bank account

Treat the opps like dinner, we take 'em out

Thought that boy my cousin, he snaked me out

I'd be dead ass wrong if I chase him down

Ask what that cold ass shit about

If I state my opinion then I'm chasin' clout

AK-47, I'm riding 'round

Ain't goin' in till I hear choppa sounds

L-O-Y-A-L-T-Y, cross me once might let it slide

Cross me twice yo' mama gon' cry

D-I-E, yo' ass gon' die

Can't compare the opps 'cause we not real alike

We don't do no drills alike

Lotta shit got killed 'bout Bibby

Opps ain't killed shit 'bout dude on the bike

Know 6, I'm a thief in the night

Like Ku get caught at the light

How the fuck you crap on the dice?

How the fuck you lose your life?

In the streets but you know you not

Diss me, got a lotta niggas shot

Say I got a whole lotta opps

So I bought a whole lotta Glocks

Nigga, funeral, funeral, court date

Hope 'Jack be the court case

I still be crying 'bout Kendre

Police killed him broad day

My pain was running deep than the ocean

I ain't have no emotions

I was drilling sober

Know [?], he a snake, he a cobra

Rock, paper, scissors, I ain't folding

Glock 45, I tot it

You broke, you ain't got no motion

Like a Ford, I gotta stay focused

Like a Ford, I gotta stay focused

They say Lil 6, I'm chosen

And [?] caught sixty-five, [?]

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