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Troy Ave – I Ain't Mad At Cha lyrics

God forgives nigga I don't

Ghetto dreams of being rich
Walkin' with money, read my stones and my scriptures then I got to thinkin'
Damn I miss my nigga, if you ever lost somebody then say "R.I.P. my nigga"
("R.I.P. my nigga")
Ghetto dreams of being rich
Walkin' with money, read my stones and my scriptures then I got to thinkin'
Damn I miss my nigga, if you ever lost somebody then say "R.I.P. my nigga"
("R.I.P. my nigga")

Real nigga die, fake nigga went to jail
There ain't no balance I need murder on that scale
I wanna say more but them people on my trail
I gotta be cautious while I'm preppin' for this trial
I sat for 2 months they wouldn't give your boy a bail
I sat for 2 months they couldn't get your boy to tell
Critics said somethin' he ain't my dawg that's a opp
A nigga went to court started talkin' like a cop
911 niggas fraudin' what they not
Even fake freinds left Troy while I was shot
Why these niggas ain't go put in pain while I was locked
Why these niggas leavin' me to take on all these Glocks

Ghetto dreams of being rich
Walkin' with money, read my stones and my scriptures then I got to thinkin'
Damn I miss my nigga, if you ever lost somebody then say "R.I.P. my nigga"
("R.I.P. my nigga")
Ghetto dreams of being rich
Walkin' with money, read my stones and my scriptures then I got to thinkin'
Damn I miss my nigga, if you ever lost somebody then say "R.I.P. my nigga"
("R.I.P. my nigga")

Triflin' wanksta acting like a real brother
But Banga ain't really fuck wit ya, word to my mother
We had real talks while his case was gettin' cull
He asked for bail, you said you just moral support
You seen Assanova at the Summer Jam, facts
You said who did it, he said "wasn't me, it was"
He's a rat and fuckboy that's runnin' its proven
I should have let it happen when Banga was 'bout to boom him
Nigga you been on my dick
Using my adlibs, askin' me to take a couple flicks
You was right there when I was takin' the give
Askin' Murda why he ain't help, why you ain't help bitch?
'Cause you a pussy and niggas was fuckin' your bitch
She left and took the baby 'cause you ain't had no chips
Mucho put you on and you took the bitch back
Now when you fall off I guarantee she fall back
Sucker, you remind me of that Hovain clown
His baby moms fucked a nigga that work in Food Town
He beat her up in the middle of sleep
All 'cause she got a text from Produce Pete
He said "How this dick was? I fucked you better than your man?"
400 pounds on the neck, choke slam
Damn, right in front of the kids
I mean it's only one bedroom where y'all niggas live
Is you mad that I got six?
I said "let's go half and buy Leo a drop 6"
You just laughed
I said "Bro what's so funny?"
You said "Fuck him, that nigga ain't make us no money"

Ghetto dreams of being rich
Walkin' with money, read my stones and my scriptures then I got to thinkin'
Damn I miss my nigga, if you ever lost somebody then say "R.I.P. my nigga"
("R.I.P. my nigga")
Ghetto dreams of being rich
Walkin' with money, read my stones and my scriptures then I got to thinkin'
Damn I miss my nigga, if you ever lost somebody then say "R.I.P. my nigga"
("R.I.P. my nigga")



Lyrics taken from /lyrics/t/troy_ave/i_aint_mad_at_cha.html

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