Lyrics:
Chika-ah
Come on
Well, here's a lil' story that we like to tell
About two bad brothas that you know so well
With a pimp gain shoe game know we up
we be living it up
West Coast, Southside, we be tossing it up
On the streets or the club, who want to mean-mug
You best not be tripping on these Califa
we be living it up
West Coast, Southside, we be tossing it up
On the streets or the club, who want to mean-mug
You best not be tripping on these Califa
wanna pop that bubbly
And by the way, I'm Al
Al-co-holic
I act a fool and frolic
Till I hurl in the toilet
J-Ro dangerously
Givin you brain surgery
Who that in my eyes some Clampett eaten away by fungi
Another virus disease, at ease, quick to lead a strike against Haiti
When half your army in
And that's a fact
My body's count's in the great beyond
You can't keep with that
Living in my mama's crib at 20 years old
On the Southside, around this time
these days that pass us by so quickly
Slip right through my fingers, and into the dusty vents of my building
These stories will never fade, so many
On the beach with a few club sodas
Bedtime stories, and pose like dem name Chuck Norris
And don't know the real hardcore
'Cause Sandals ah nuh back too
On the beach with a few club sodas
Bedtime stories, and pose like dem name Chuck Norris
And don't know the real hardcore
'Cause Sandals ah nuh back too
The fury I manipulate is the arc of the story
Written without a ghostwriter to author it for me
This is crime and the punishment, I'm the judge
rolled by, since I've had him in my life
But this is your song, bro
I hope it makes you smile
This story starts back in time when I was just a child
Out
Hey!
(Oh we back)
(Prism Tribe, worldwide, southside, everywhere)
See it all so clearly from every class of the plane
Took a little pain on my
They brand me brutal
We on the southside
This my story
This aint like westside
story the musical
I guess my
methods are unsiitable
I aint that usual
I overpaid the cost but I ain't never change
The Wockhardt green but we bumpin Purple Reign
The one by future even though Prince a legend
He got a 9
a finger crossed
Judgin’ by the jury
I don’t see a loss
Fuckin’ up the story
Somethin’ seemin’ off
Yeah, they had a case until this shit get tossed
Y’all
a give yuh girlfriend contact
Some boy nuh notice
Dem only come around like tourist
On the beach wit' a few club sodas
Bedtime stories
And pose like they
it's realer than your shit!"
Woodgrain wheel and the candy paint mandatory
If you're from that Texas, you already understand the story
Money, cups
Until the night he raped her
Followed her home
Pistol in her purse
Holdin' her own
Still haunted by the scent of his cologne
One in his dome, she
story just rappin' 'em
As a genre nobody can even fathom us
'Cause, it's three separate
Things just smashin' (What?)
A little bit of country
Little bit
they wanna show up at the crib
Start of 22, Southside I was up the creek
Down bad, this shit deeper than a dip
What the future hold you can't tell
Take
ain't heard by now
Solo in this motherfucker, on time for the Cport
Southside in this bitch, uh-huh, uh-huh
Ride
Verse 1:
I had a dream to change the world maybe it's dream of every poet
But I always do a little bit more my wish doesn't end by poems
I speak
experiences
Life is all about appreciation
You know that
Appreciate where you came from
Real shit tho
Uunnn
I'm just trying to tell my story from the realest
grew up on the Eastside
Had family on the Southside and burbs, he lived three lives
He shy but charismatic, read stories in his free time
He had love
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