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PERFORMING ARTISTS
T.I.
T.I.
Performer
Problem
Problem
Performer
Rich Homie Quan
Rich Homie Quan
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jason Martin
Jason Martin
Songwriter
Dequantes Lamar
Dequantes Lamar
Songwriter
Clifford J. Harris, Jr.
Clifford J. Harris, Jr.
Songwriter

Lyrics

Drinking Hennessy, getting high riding with my niggas Dark days thought we never ever see sunshine No lie now I shine with my niggas Inhaling smoke with my lungs ya here it come Will I live to see the sun nobody knows Travel roads that they scared to drive What I've seen make a sane man petrified I remember hearing shots it was late December [?] Shotty popped his body dropped me and my cousin ran Breathing hard like "you seen that nigga" Later on my body froze when I seen the killer cross the street [?] dad that the kid just lost Popping pills trying to lose the thoughts One day we all gon' live or we can die strong either we got to carry on Devil on the phone fuck it The pressure building seems I can't take it Supposed to pick the kids up but I can't make it Daddy out here on the hood trying to change their life Praying that the money make it right But only lord knows what the future is This a different area niggas shoot you in front of your kids [?] who you is And who they got liquor shots for the hooligans [?] came from the slums Real niggas help extend the plugs One day we all gon' live or we can die strong either we got to carry on Devil on the phone fuck that I'm still looking for the sunshine Running around with them choppers dodging one time getting high Twenty one dimes left to sell On probation still throwing rocks at the jail You get less time for rape then selling a brick So who cares if we got a black president On bended knees ask the lord "can you hear me?" Let me meet my grand kids 'fore they kill me And G's go to heaven I hope it don't take long Just put me next to Malcom, Martin, Pac, and Trayvon" All I ever wanted to do was see my dad happy And would my momma hope my grandmomma ain't mad at me Because I went to prison twice for living the life Made a promise to the judge still rolling the dice Wish [?] came back resurrected Ain't got to like it but you better respect it or else Still walking through the mall with a tec on my belt Nigga cross that line I'mma kill him myself Chasing down that hundred mil trying to get it myself And ain't nobody gave a shit we had to get it for sale Yo bitch big dick she a rounding up Plus she with her home girl and they down to fuck So what's up You had to should've put it out a little quicker Had your partner pouring out a little liquor Pussy nigga try to get me I squeeze triggers 'til my drum empty What do we have here now Do you want to ride or die ladadadadada Sipping Hennessy, middle finger to my enemy Pull up with choppers in your project like remember me I hope you fine let 'em fly fuck nigga You fucking with a fly young nigga from the west side MagmaManiac's photo MagmaManiac 195 2 months "And who they got liquor shots for the hooligans" —> "And who they not, lick a shot for the hooligans" UpvoteDownvote MagmaManiac's photo MagmaManiac 195 2 months "[?] came from the slums" —> "Salute all who came from the slums" UpvoteDownvote APPEARS ON O.T. (OUTTA TOWN) YOU MIGHT ALSO ENJOY All Eyes on You by Meek Mill King Kunta by Kendrick Lamar Trap Queen by Fetty Wap My Way by Fetty Wap
Writer(s): James Lee Jr Pollard Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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