Lyrics:
(they don't got no love for us)
We way up top, I don't see nobody but God above us (uh)
Get so high, I feel like I'm in the stars
Matter fact pull
lets stretch out in the streets
Tray Deee never do it easy fool so don't expect it
Niggas get checked and they sets disrespected
No question I'm all
with PTSD
It takes a steep toll to fight and to win
Just to find out you won’t walk again
Do you hear the 21-gun salute
They lay down their lives
As they
out here chatting no justice, no peace
The justice system aren't solving all of our problems
Innocent black and brown people are still getting killed by
I do its to be done (aah)
Al-ways have my gun and my G from 2-1
It's Cerritos but you don't hear me though 'cause you don't really know
About
When I was young, just under 21
Tore my town apart by emptying my loaded gun
Into the atmosphere
Catching bodies along the way
Now the Lord can't
head, dawg (Ye)
Straight up out the Six and we don't shoot at legs, dawg (Ay)
Zone 6 niggas love to see the white meat (21)
I put Codeine all in my ice
Dummy flashin guns on the Gram, Damon Arnette
Been going hard for 21, Kevin Garnett
Everybody wanna slide but they ain't got a car yet
Feel like i'm way
Cross on my head like I'm 21
Niggas know I don't fear anyone
I'm a goat and I'm only 21
I was savage way before 21
These niggas know we got plenty
inner city kid
(What!) Step the fuck back then relax
Rough is on a full scale attack black
Huh, I'm packing a full metal jacket
A bat, 21 guns
helping out nobody else
Ain't the way that the Maharishi said it would be
In the 21st century
Pray for guidance, beg forgiveness
Vote for change
breath
Schools
And places of worship
Are no longer gun free zones
Teachers
Expected to hit the mark in more than one way
The future looking like
Gun shop
way
Where im from dem shots go off jus duck or get hit in yo face
Gen five glock nineteen gotta pop yo gun to be around da gang
Way back in the day in
serious
Ha (it's the Roc) yeah, yo
Let's go
Post Positano, Hov' hanging with Bono
U2 can live like Salvatore Ferragamo
And you, too, can cool out
I roll up a list of my problems, then I smoke away the pain
My bruddas say get em? I got em
It don't go no other way
I know she hate it when I leave
a thousand deaths, a real nigga dies but one
21 gun salute out of the top of your drop top coupe
I know a lot of niggas gon' hate to see this
Yeah I wish Shake
someone else country, my skin is tagged by date of sale[02:18.56]These are my feelings that I let spill in and melt down into braille[02:21.58]I touch
League (21)
Still gotta keep a gun that's always near me
And I'm down to hit 'em up
One more time
Hit my line, you know that head was great
Oh,
Trynna make my way to the 21 club
Imma keep winning imma catch another dub
Trynna make my way to the 21 club
Imma keep winning imma catch another dub
love
No matter what you do money
Stack your guns and ones
Is you with me?
Well throw your hands in the air
All my thugs and soldiers
Fuck it even
at what’s become
The way I do my work I’ll be the last standing
I be pitchin out ideas while they underhandin
Mark my words with a sharpie if you understand
the foreign neighborhood
Street of my styles, no smiles, trying to gun down the golden child
Still on trial for my old endeavors
Cold weather got catched
Everybody know that I'm gettin' it
Spatula money, I'm flipping it (flip)
Big guns all through the city
Bring the whips out for the Super Bowl (skrrt)
500
strap
You fronting we know it's a cap cap cap
Got 21 guns in my back pack
Our shit is the bomb you're whack whack whack
I'm clappin yo way if you're
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