Trenchsong lyrics
by Marnz Malone
[Chorus: Bee9ine]
Auntie, hi, me, I know they lie
This kind of money, God don't consign
The things weh me, I don dey find
Unfolding itself before my eyes
This a trench song for the ones who's got someone locked up
So I thank you to all the real ones who support us
[Verse 1: Bee9ine]
Auntie funke my love
It nuh easy from the ghetto place when you wanna come home
In the streets, yeah, I'm stuck
Yeah, a mackerel feast is what you're back to, my n*gga, if you f*ck up
So slow down if you can't ride with me
'Causе I got another lover weh gon' ridе for me
If you can't reach me then just write to me
But I write all of them letters, them nuh write to me
Only God can judge me so I lie to the judge
Gangster, hoodlum, they said I'm thug to the law
Auntie funke make you nuh dull me at all, make you nuh dull me
Make you nuh dull me at all
[Chorus: Bee9ine]
Auntie, hi, me, I know they lie
This kind of money, God don't consign
The things weh me, I don dey find
Unfolding itself before my eyes
This a trench song for the ones who's got someone locked up
So I thank you to all the real ones who support us
[Verse 2: Marnz Malone]
This kinda money make her act bad
I think it's funny, you getting mad
You wanna be a G, I want the bag
I can't trust no one, they'll do me like dad
You say you love me then do me like that
I gave him a pistol with few in the mag
I'm not your brother, don't call me your akh
In the trenches, where I spent the whole summer locked up
I see him try run but he tripped when he got shot
Auntie funke, my love
Like Wretch 32 and my song on "Maktub", I've been saying "Don't go"
In the trenches I'm home
She didn't wanna know when I was on a low, now they're calling my phone
This kinda money make her act bad
I think it's funny, you getting mad
You wanna be a G, I want the bag
I can't trust no one, they'll do me like dad
You say you love me then do me like that
I gave him a pistol with few in the mag
I'm not your brother, don't call me your akh
[Chorus: Bee9ine]
Auntie, hi, me, I know they lie
This kind of money, God don't consign
The things weh me, I don dey find
Unfolding itself before my eyes
This a trench song for the ones who's got someone locked up
So I thank you to all the real ones who support us