I made it

they say I'm one of a kind a young nigga from Newtown I remember them days it was kill or be killed I'ma keep it real I kept it silent from the beginning im so tired of broken love end yo life with that glock leave yo mama in shock she traumatized I can here yo mama crying I make this for them gangsters who ain't get banged the ones who actually made it who lives slowly fading they say I look like my father with my grama eyes shadow room so slow that pistol put a nigga in his place kill that nigga in his mama basement I catch a case I'm blessed they let me out pistol a nigha in his mama face leave my music as a draft until I start feeling it I'm traumatized I'm so tired of fake love they say I look just like my father but with my grama eyes long way I dont know who I am