The Cratez - F.Y.F. lyrics

You made me this (3x) Congratulations Savage... Verse 1 Yeah Nobody know the pain I been hidin' You said you needed love and affection I provided Then turned me into somethin' else entirely I'm cold I'm drownin' in this liquor, then I chase it with these h___ My lows on the front side of my mind They said I needed time But that don't fix sh**, gotta hit, quit Then do it all again All these new faces, old problems On lock down, don't know about 'em No therapy, my s** drive On the Autobahn in that Armani This sh** been deep inside me No arguin' in lobbies Rather handle my depression in a f**in' Maserati She wrapped around my tendo, don't think she know karate Tryna get her off my dick n I just hit the Ricky Bobby Got yo bestie ridin' shottie She seen me on the rise My cables in her box, I'm like a TV enterprise But, I don't need to stunt Don't want TVs in my ride All I wanted was that look up in yo eye Wonder why Hook f** yo feelings Play the game that's how it go f** yo feelings I ain't wit' it, you can catch me on the road f** yo feelings No more keepin' all my problems on the low f** yo feelings While you out here playin' games I forgot yo f**in' name What you sayin' “you don't care, never took me over there” (f** em) “yeen got no money, yeen never get my hair did” Lately you been actin' like the Blair Witch (f** em) Never there “whatever, you never cared” 'cause it ain't about you Verse 2 Baby these days, I freeze frame, got no antidote For the poison inside, imma point at ‘em both Cause you wack, yo man lame, not a damn thang Gon change that, my campaign Get rich and blast yo damn name Is on and poppin' My head been ringin', throat congested My shoulder lockin' Excuses subpar, got a AR to yo' 40 Glock 'n You gon' remember me I swear Get that fat crib and a chick Wit' that fake a** Aaliyah hair We been there, had a lot less in my pocket My hustle young, my confidence Sky high in that rocket I aim at the stars Can't see past temporary love 20 women, different clubs Girl you know my vision was Next level, tryna schedule Flights, shows, sh** get realer (k**a k**a) I used to bust all in yo' grill no concealer (k**a k**a) Back to that savage you remember January December, yo drama Go back to sender, convo ender Hook f** yo Life and yo emotions, got me really Cut throat Ricin' wit the motion Now they feelin' us so Started lookin' at me Like a million bucks sold Swear to god it's priceless You reppin' what I might get I heard yo bestie got some mileage