Lyrics:
left in our lives
I mean, my crib look bigger through my son's eyes
And the squad look bigger to the young guys
And my dick feel better when you
on TV live
On channel 13 but call yourself a gangster?
Nigga, ya better stop doin all that dry snitchin
When you know it ain't real, 'fore somebody come
eyes 'cause I be higher than most
Been on the plane for twenty hours, and wasn't tired
Live by the code, money power
Once I got on, my niggas hired
able to control this?
I know some fok' that live by the levee
That keep on telling me they heard the explosions
Same shit happened back in Hurricane
at a lower state in this life that we live here in today
In the United States of America
I love you, son, and I pray for you
God bless you, shalom
at a lower state in this life that we live here in today
In the United States of America
I love you, son, and I pray for you
God bless you, shalom
live channel number 2
My momma told me sideways
I would have to get outside find my place
My momma shares my migraines
Look too hard at me might get
weed
Skunk with no seeds! - A sip of Hennessy.
Pass to D! - Or maybe movin' solo!
Never with a skeezer by my side, that's a no-no.
Tell me I ain't
got weed and potpourri
See, shit he might flee if my son got her
Gangaz brung 151 and Rum Chata
Police blotter, even though I ain’t done nada
Ayahuasca,
heart and hope to live, while I hear my mama cryin'
Mama sittin' and watch her son just grow from such a little angel
Morph into a creature, she don't
that wants to perpetrate
When I go out on the streets, I get lost for days
Buying weed and beer from what my hustlin makes
Gettin fucked up and reppin
on my face
You can meet me by the docks Boatloads by the case
Tiger head on the wall
With the marble fireplace
I'm cuttin' right to the chase
Son, I'm
savages to roam in the streets
Live on the run, police payin' me to give in my gun
Trick my wisdom with the system that imprisoned my son
Smoke a gold
savages to roam in the streets
Live on the run, police payin' me to give in my gun
Trick my wisdom with the system that imprisoned my son
Smoke a gold
What's been done can't be undone Son, we can't care
Cause the last days and times are surely here
Snakes and flakes get blown, by the righteous ones
confined
I can't see
Son's mind like a bum knee
Mine's number one he
Left you tongue tied
One time
Go out on my roof
Go out on my roof
I just go out
If god had a song to smoke to this would be it
All the rappers I know be talkin bout' that street shit
But they dont really live it
I swear to god
son at some joint
By some man who didn't give a fuck where his gun point
You never know what niggas have been through
We just worry bout the parties
Ninety miles per hour I'm like "fuck these punks!"
It's the land of the free son, you only live once
You a smart motherfucker or you stupid dunce?
Music
the weed spot, pounds of purp, bowl of cereal
Cartoons is on, my favorite shit is The Smurfs
Now I don't slip when I'm down in the dirt,
cause by this
get my currency in stacks
California's where I'm at - right?
Passed by while these niggas wonder by
I got shot but didn't die
Let 'em see who's next
if she's bi then we might date her
In ass like vibrators more class than five acres
Skipped by five players who played with five lakers
Laugh now cry
talkin' 'bout some real life shit
Goodbye letter, "Dear Life" shit
Way too concerned to be conceited
I live and I learn, then die tryna teach 'em, Lord
I was born to be a soldier!
[Chorus: x4]
[Fiend]
Bringin bags and weed
Lil Fiend live by the soldiers creed
Of broken no seed in the botton
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