Lyrics Montana Of 300 – Trenches

All this killing in my city
All that money I done ran through
All this weight up on my plate, y’all
Thought it was impossible

All this killing in my city, shit is senseless
All that money I ran through I shouldn’t’ve spent it
All this weight up on my plate but still I lift it
It felt impossible but I was on a mission
It’s fuck the world and fuck you too if you against this
I told myself I gotta make it out them trenches
Make it out them trenches
Make it out them trenches

Ain’t from no block, shit I was raised up in them buildings
We was known for getting money and them killings
All my niggas failing so they drug-dealing
No Tekashi 6ix9ine, we ain’t snitching
Since I lost my niggas, I’m talking about Boochi and Chris
You see that pain in my eyes
You see that gun on my hip
You know the niggas I lost
Don’t know the shit that I faced
Gotta ride around with that hammer to stay alive in my city
Don’t let a nigga finesse you
‘Cause you know niggas get greedy
I feel sorry for lil’ homie
He growing up with no hope
His daddy off up in prison, his momma fuck with the coke
He see an opp up in public, he got it on him, he blow
It ain’t no right’, it ain’t no wrong in my city
These bitches scheme, these niggas hate me, this shit is wicked

All this killing in my city, shit is senseless
All that money I ran through I shouldn’t’ve spent it
All this weight up on my plate but still I lift it
It felt impossible but I was on a mission
It’s fuck the world and fuck you too if you against this
I told myself I gotta make it out them trenches
Make it out them trenches
Make it out them trenches

Everybody broke but shit I felt like I can fix shit
Forgave some family who spoke on me with resentment
Seen niggas quit who value clout over commitment
I went to jail and needed bail, nobody chipped in
The disappointment only brought me to my senses
You not my bro if you see me as competition
Was selling trees, it ain’t have shit to do with Christmas
Was eating good up in that field it wasn’t no picnic
Weight man spinnin’ you would think I threw the discus
(12 all on my back like I was Ja Morant in Memphis)
Shooting videos, rapping reckless talking big shit
Pole all in the camera I ain’t talking ’bout no dick pic
Knew I’d get dough for every show like Homer Simpson
Started fucking vixens, glizzys with extensions
While running through these checks
I checked some niggas off my hit-list
When opps got out of pocket, ain’t no safety I was blitzing (brraah)

All this killing in my city, shit is senseless
All that money I ran through I shouldn’t’ve spent it
All this weight up on my plate but still I lift it
It felt impossible but I was on a mission
It’s fuck the world and fuck you too if you against this
I told myself I gotta make it out them trenches
Make it out them trenches
Make it out them trenches

All this killing in my city
All that money I done ran through
All this weight up on my plate, y’all
Thought it was impossible