We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Painkillers Never Murdered Nothing

from Triple C's: 2Cups 4My Pain by M.O.B. Trey

The MOB exclusive

lyrics

I mix my sadness with sedatives hoping the shit'll even out
Against all odds I think we even now, seeing how
The people change, a few of mine with me remain
To enjoy the sunny days, guess the others ain't wanna see me reign(rain)
... The purple getting me stuck
Arguing with this bopper that twerk as good as she fuck
I hate her but I love the way she look cause its so familiar
She remind me of mami that's on my mind
I talk to her all the time, for months I been tryna get her
If I really wanted her, I wouldn't see you in her
I'll cut her off, no comp between you and her
In my thoughts I'm fucking you, in these sheets doing her
Mixin these elixirs by the pitchers still seeing reflections
Of me and you every time I pass mirrors
Shorty got my heart, she don't notice and I'm shook to say it
Cause of all the ones from in the past and what they took away and
Now it's easier to say it all while this mic is on
This life is long, not short cause I don't know where I belong
All ya see hoes I fucked, clothes I wear, ice and cars
While I'm fighting a depression until the sprite is poured
Left the cold streets when I found love, sound so sweet
But where I'm from if you live to 25 you an OG well
If the pain of broken hearts could get you killed
Than I've died more times than I care to relive
I was young and stupid, my weakness was my naiveness
Talking with my demons cause no one else give a fuck
Seemed like the the only thing outside of my reach is
Someone that want give up on me, and learning how to give it up
I get called amazing, perfect, just something else
Try to give all of me, but they wish me was someone else
I take my heart and my time alone
And mix it with some lean in my Styrofoam, 2 cups for my pain
I'm beyond tired of reaching out
Drinking out the bottle, texting models
Feeling hollow, tweaking just thinkin trying to sort my demons out
Got all this love niggas yet they so quick to leave me out
Of everything then wanna wave when they see me out
Left alone by the folks I'd never be without
At this point in time it's either love me Or leave me now
Everything they call true is a hoax
I misconstrued who was around with the few who was close
I swear I see clearer in a room full of smoke it's dope
I'm mixing my syrup with fanta and sprite
One hand on the pipe just rappin my life
Blame my history for why lately I'm making women mad
They say they love me and a nigga laugh like fuck it
And flip a bird before I buy some bitches bags
With the cash then right it of as chicken scratch
Tryna go from these Passed due bills, to laughing
With spanish bitch bout how quick we just spent this last 2mill
Fuckin around discovered my sound was the voice I was born wit
Tried to change it multiple times, thought it was boring
In the yard birds clucking, hens and chickens was out
Cause chicken was out, just sticking me dick in a chick n was out
Y'all don't know the struggle of forcing ya pin to move
In an unnatural direction cause you woke up a different dude
Looking in the mirror and thinking this isn't you
Pretending to be something with stuff you intend to prove
To the word ... Not knowing you is the worst type of ignorance
And habit, niggas need to quit the shit... But dig the shit
I fuck up and admit the shit
But that's not as tough as to forgive the shit and live with it
I suppose, yall will advise me to drop to my knee
But I always regret like every time I propose
That's 4 rings that meant I woulda gave my soul to bitches
The coldest shit is half of em woulda sold them bitches
I get left hurt but it's all me as the player
Rolling bomb weed by the layer in Garcia and vega
They call me in a favors, want me in to save em
They walk free of a thank ya when it's on me as the savior
Me, I just wanna tall freak I can savor
And nap in a hamuk hanging on palm trees out in Vegas
I dont wanna hear sword ... Not a bar from you niggas
If you ain't ink, I ain't tryna talk to you niggas
The old me woulda spark at you nigga
Or the knife work, Indian, it's Tom or hawk to you nigga
Had me wasting my breath for two longs
When I really gotta say is fuck you all
Wrote this shit a month after K'sea dipped on me
Next time you see her, tell her play this shit homie king pen

credits

from Triple C's: 2Cups 4My Pain, released March 18, 2016
Prod. By Don Santiago

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

M.O.B. Trey Texarkana, Texas

I give people a piece of who I am through music. That's all. Hope you enjoy the sound of how I feel.

contact / help

Contact M.O.B. Trey

Streaming and
Download help

Report this track or account

If you like M.O.B. Trey, you may also like: