Lyrics:
But out here it gets violent
As I take my gun off before I pray
I don't have problem with
Meeting God halfway
Yeah, we believe in a higher force
May
Write next to the bridge
Just in case I gots to go on the lamb
Live off land, sleep in vans
And eat out of cans
Yo, my life is like the rolling for dice
I
I just tell the fans the truth
And y'all be dressin' it up
When they thought we was fallin'
Off, we was levelin' up, let's go
Sometimes I feel like
count my real niggas
With a hand to five
Had to go up in the house before sundown
System love nobody 'cause the
Kids gettin' gunned down
10 years old,
fact juice
The juice no bishop guns without a hiccup
Got to connect lined up at the pickup
Old school rolley faced the master cody still
Smoking a bogy
On that South by Southwest shit
We was lit, big bags of okie on the highway
Played a lil' Hall and Oates
And then some Sade
My cousin Cortez still up in
We just touched down in L.A. just like Bruins (hey, ayy)
Got a fifty in the clip, I'm times two of 'em (hey, hey)
Throwin' bowls, drop 'em off, yeah,
Don't come on no passa
Bad gyal wanna farnicate but I can't fall off like gazza I gotta go do a madting for the gaffa
Catch man with a panna, coulda spent
wear it
Spit it out your mouth, don’t be embarrassed
Time is money, can't be moving like I'm Gary, life so scary
Everybody carry guns, everybody on drugs
fired all guns wide
Devoured by the wreckage
Against the lifeless tide
There's nothing that'll stop us now
Not even the perfect storm
The typhoons
Moments of clarity with nothing but foreign air to breath
Empty subway carts and I don't know where to get off
And the feeling of being lost is too
the revolution begun
I flourish, I strive, they brandish their gun
I'm jogging, I'm driving, I'm breathing
But I still got a reason to run
Pass me a blunt
Pass
less than you
Learned good lessons like private school
Got paid to go to private school
Yep, for my masters, now schooling you
My cv got me in not
bitch I'm scoring (Brrat)
We be shooting niggas and the score's up, I'm scoring (Brrat, brrat), yeah
I pop out with a mob (Bop, bop, uh)
Big ass gun
told her, "Chill, Gunther, get in your place"
Tried to call me by my government I spit in her face
Where you know me from?
(Yo, state ya name, ya
Man everything good this way
Man just keep cool
(Nawfside)
Ha ha ha ha
(Big Boss Two Feeta)
Aw
(Let's Go)
We gone move the dope til it's all
Liquor store closed
Hit the bootlegger, let's hit the bootlegger
Straight up, yo
Yo dunn, we got guns in the grass, it's three at night
I'm about
[Chorus: x4]
Raining-raining, raining-raining
Raining-raining, it's raining
Now off top Daily life, get deeper than deep
On my toes at all
head bussin' not even bein' dead
Murda Squad is here, you smell tha fury from tha gun smoke
Empty my weapon and then it's covered by a trench coat
a game in my vein
[Verse 1: Mac]
Murda murda I wrote it in braile
Uncut, lyrical dope, certified by my scale
The homicide rapper, there'll never be
bring the rope
'cause the only way you hang is by the neck, nigga, bump off a set
Comin' through all your projects
Take it as a threat or better yet,
tears 'til I get over you
Sometimes I watch the world go by
I wonder what it's like
To wake up every single day
Smile on your face
You never tried
with your killer.
It's your last breath, it's your last cry.
I go all out constantly thankin' how to get mine
Everything I do is a hustle, pullin'
I'm finna cut off his dick
Blow me a gun to my nose
My throat is hung up wit smoke
I don't fuck wit you on that dope
If it's not makin me choke
I roll
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