PTSD lyrics by Pop Smoke - original song full text. Official PTSD lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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Pop Smoke – PTSD lyrics
[Intro]
My PTSD startin' to kick in so I gotta get high
Uh, uh, ayy

[Chorus]
My PTSD startin' to kick in so I gotta get high
Trey shot that nigga out my car so now I gotta get low
I ain't no city boy 'cause I love my bitch
Nigga, but that don't mean that I don't love my hoes
Niggas tried to smack me up so now I'm raising hell
Don't try and dap me up, lil' nigga, you are not my bro
Trey shot that nigga out my car so I gotta get low
They know we bend blocks, welcome to the party

[Verse 1]
Dot on the head of his only daughter
Then I dunk her head in that holy water
Niggas shootin', we gon' shoot back
Sittin' at the table like Tha Carter 5
They know I'ma do you, aimin' for medulla
Cooler than a cooler, shooter with a shooter
AK on my shoulder like I'm Malcom X
'Cause I ain't goin' out like I'm Martin Luther
Nigga open up the door, nigga, I know you home
It's a hundred Crip niggas standing on your lawn
Give up that cheese, give that Provolone
And I ain't talkin' on the phone 'cause I ain't playin' with 'em
I got a K for the cuz if he hit you
If I call Nappy Blue, he come and get you
Call Dread, that's the new Tom Brady
'Cause he be sendin' shots like it's missile

[Chorus]
My PTSD startin' to kick in so I gotta get high
Trey shot that nigga out my car so now I gotta get low
I ain't no city boy 'cause I love my bitch
Nigga, but that don't mean that I don't love my hoes
Niggas tried to smack me up so now I'm raising hell
Don't try and dap me up, lil' nigga, you are not my bro
Trey shot that nigga out my car so I gotta get low
They know we bend blocks, welcome to the party

[Verse 2]
Niggas always talkin' hot and runnin' they mouth
Until I kick down they door and run in they house
Have they mother on the floor with the gun in her mouth
Like what's that shit up on the 'net your son was talkin' 'bout?
I put that on my son that I'ma take it there
'Cause when you come from where I come from, I ain't playin fair
My lil' homie die and I ain't drop a tear
I just rolled a spliff and put it in the air
I'm big 092, niggas know I'm Woo
I look a nigga in his face like "Who you talkin' to?"
I need 25K or I ain't walkin' through
I need 25K or I ain't walkin' through
I spent twenty on my wrist and twenty on a chain
I be spoiling myself so I can ease the pain
Digital dash, I be switching lanes
I was sitting on the bench, but now I'm in the game

[Chorus]
My PTSD startin' to kick in so I gotta get high
Trey shot that nigga out my car so now I gotta get low
I ain't no city boy 'cause I love my bitch
Nigga, but that don't mean that I don't love my hoes
Niggas tried to smack me up so now I'm raising hell
Don't try and dap me up, lil' nigga, you are not my bro
Trey shot that nigga out my car so I gotta get low
They know we bend blocks, welcome to the party
×



Lyrics taken from /pop_smoke-ptsd-1683867.html

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Songwriters: Andre Michael Loblack, Bashar Barakah Jackson
PTSD lyrics © Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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