Tragedy Songtext
von YFN Lucci feat. Bigga Rankin

The tragedy in a man′s life
Is not having lived while you was alive
Learning to love and lose is a part of life
It's never having loved anyone or anything
That′s the biggest loss of all
Wish me well three, the streets is waiting (yeah)

Look, never put your trust in a nigga
My mama told me that
I can't do no dirt with you nigga's
You can′t wait to rat

Big homie keep saying he got me, I can′t wait on that
No offence, but I'ma go get mine, just pray I make it back
Okay, my main man down, lil′ brother died and he won't pay back
Hey, ever seen a grown man cry in a Maybach?

Talking to God, the hood do anything to have lay back
Lord know we′ll do anything to have quay back
Look, free dog, John Kenny, I can't wait to see y′all
Miss me with that sucker shit, but don't piss me off


Look, we ain't ducking no wreck, I just wrecked my new haul
Had to cut the dead weight, I ain′t no damn U-haul
Long live K.O
It′s hard to spot the snakes when the grass grow

And everybody fake but it gonna soon show
The street dirty, what you think I keep a broom for?
Huh, all this damn pain, I be needing medication
I ain't need no education, I just stayed in rotation

Real nigga, never let a sucker violate me
I′m a grave digger, stop comparing me to your big homie, bitch
I'm way bigger

Huh, ring on my finger, that shit way bigger
Huh, thinking they them nigga, bitch, we way bigger
Huh, huh, I had to cut lil′ shorty off, that nigga too bitter
Before the song, I had no racks in the middle

Now I say big bankroll, can't fit them racks in my denim
Ayy, my lil′ rich ass bro been gettin' racks since he was little, huh
Me and money back to back splats, we was little, huh
Before I was the man, I was the man in the middle

Huh, before the bank jug, we had plans to get richer
Playing with that pistol, I got a plan for my lil' one
They know I cashed out, I ain′t put down on no nothing, huh
Ain′t looking for no handout, no I don't want nothing from no nigga


Six years later, I got elevators
I got hella acres, nosy ass neighbors
I got my own label, huh
I don′t need no money machine, I count my own paper

Look, tell me why these so called thugs act like they shooting shit up
But nigga's don′t got guns, these nigga's so made up
Talk tough online, this nigga′s funny as fuck
Mm-mm