Feel Different Duvy
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Feel Different" by Duvy. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Chorus]
When you park the foreign in the lot, that shit feel different
When you from the bottom playing with racks, that shit feel different
Had a revolver, now it's Glock and that shit shoot different
When you losing niggas you with everyday, it hit different
I'm from the trenches, niggas die young
And you can't tell me not to live it, I was there
Police run down, saying, "Hands up"
But I ain't gon' stop, I got my pipe and that bitch here
[Verse 1]
Head hurt on hard days, that shit don't last long
In these streets no wasting time no days off
I've been serving that pack like a waiter
They quick to leave and run right back, ain't finna play with y'all
I bet my brother, he bust your head, trigger finger retarded
That that dumb way from bro, he ain't missing the target (For real)
Promise we handled the broken apartments
My heart on fire like how did it started
That nigga said you was real told on a nigga, you both fake
It was vacant houses now it vacays
It was fast cars with baby Ks
And when we ride bet he gon' catch a fade (ye ye)
If we ain't making money, bet we tryna take a face
How you say I'm trippin'? Dior sandals, it got no laces
Fuck, I can't ball when my brothers give me headaches
Ball like Trae Young, too many die young
When you park the foreign in the lot, that shit feel different
When you from the bottom playing with racks, that shit feel different
Had a revolver, now it's Glock and that shit shoot different
When you losing niggas you with everyday, it hit different
I'm from the trenches, niggas die young
And you can't tell me not to live it, I was there
Police run down, saying, "Hands up"
But I ain't gon' stop, I got my pipe and that bitch here
[Verse 1]
Head hurt on hard days, that shit don't last long
In these streets no wasting time no days off
I've been serving that pack like a waiter
They quick to leave and run right back, ain't finna play with y'all
I bet my brother, he bust your head, trigger finger retarded
That that dumb way from bro, he ain't missing the target (For real)
Promise we handled the broken apartments
My heart on fire like how did it started
That nigga said you was real told on a nigga, you both fake
It was vacant houses now it vacays
It was fast cars with baby Ks
And when we ride bet he gon' catch a fade (ye ye)
If we ain't making money, bet we tryna take a face
How you say I'm trippin'? Dior sandals, it got no laces
Fuck, I can't ball when my brothers give me headaches
Ball like Trae Young, too many die young
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