memories

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HBK Shon

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Thinking bout the memories I had
Prison road visits just to go and see my dad
Grinding Onna block he coulda made it with a pad
Now I'm finna live the life he wishing that he had
My city getting worse they killing children over cash
I'm praying for my days, but still Preparing for my last
The studio my home, feel like I'm cooking in the lab
But ima blow this smoke and leave my troubles in the past
Aware of my sorroundings how you make it where I'm from
You pulling up to scrap they pullin up to shoot that gun
My brother said I'm special yeah he call me 1 of 1
But I can't even move until my grandma out the slums
These rapper trappers cappers be the niggas who be dissin me
Yo shooter not a shooter if yo shooter bullets missing me
Supporting what I always do, but certain things I can't agree
Just started with this shit they on my dick and they won't let me breath
I pray to God to keep me up I'm walking through this danger
And if a nigga play with me I'm armed and I'm dangerous
You cruising through my section boy you betta tuck that banger
The f*ck you in my section tryna put yo life in danger?
Thinking bout the memories I had
Prison road visits just to go and see my dad
Grinding Onna block he coulda made it with a pad
Now I'm finna live the life he wishing that he had
My city getting worse they killing children over cash
I'm praying for my days, but still Preparing for my last
The studio my home, feel like I'm cooking in the lab
But ima blow this smoke and leave my troubles in the past
Remember I was young I use to get to kick it with my pops
He did the rapping shit and then he went and hit the block
My momma stopped me hanging wit em coulda got us shot
They put em in them cuffs and then they put em inna box
The people in my circle had to teach me how to steal
My nigga from my hood had taught me how to tuck that steal
Aye shout out to my niggaz cuz y'all always kept it real
He wanna be a soldier but won't step into that field
Thinking bout the memories I had
Prison road visits just to go and see my dad
Grinding Onna block he coulda made it with a pad
now I'm finna live the life he wishing that he had
My city getting worse they killing children over cash
I'm praying for my days, but still Preparing for my last
The studio my home, feel like I'm cooking in the lab
But ima blow this smoke and leave my troubles in the past

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