Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Grimm and Shadow
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Paul Anthony Ramirez
Songwriter
Randy J. Ramirez
Songwriter
Anthony Escalante
Songwriter
Lawrence Gurule
Songwriter
Mark Kidnay
Songwriter
Songtexte
Blood on the battlefield. Wars over who's the hardest.
Through the carnage who’s the king of all future martyrs.
Choose a target, set the scope let the game begin.
Tell that story once. Never talked the same again.
Walk the ways of men march’n into suicide.
It’s do or die can’t be troubled over who or why.
Rumors. Lies. The streets are full of ways to merc a man.
A murder plan was in effect the day this earth began.
Curse the clan that holds a hand over the heavy soul.
Fuck a heat. Struck him deep with a machete blow.
Steady strokes. That other side of what you thought was real.
Slip and then you fall and don’t know what it was that got you killed.
Hundred-thousand dollar bills later like it never was.
Wish the hood would tell it. Hell it never does.
The streets of South East forever fill my arteries.
Telephone Road. Long Drive. Still a part of me
Telephone Road. Long Drive. Still a part of me.
Telephone Road. Long Drive. Still a part of me.
The streets of South East forever fill my arteries.
Telephone Road. Long Drive. Still a part of me.
Telephone Road. Long Drive. Still a part of me.
Telephone Road. Long Drive. Still a part of me.
The streets of South East forever fill my arteries.
Telephone Road. Long Drive. Still a part of me.
Get whatcha got go’n the hardest through the toughest times.
Who, when, how, what and why? Won’t find the trust in lies. The roughest rise.
Wreck’n second chances for the weak and decrepit.
Every street is connected. Whatcha reap resurrect'd. Respect it.
Let that sink and settle so it's stuck in the system.
Wouldn’t bleed for what’s been written if it wasn’t for wisdom.
Hustle doesn’t forgive and forget the past and the future collide.
Work'n with the wicket. Woke up ask’n for lose’n ya life.
Strap'd and ya shoot for them eyes. That’s what it’s been from the pistol.
Watch'n my weight and I want my half from the flip to the nickel.
Triple times the trouble. Double dose of the struggle.
On the road in the rubble. Boil'n over we bubble no huddle.
Hundred-thousand dollar bills later like it never was.
Wish the hood would tell it. Hell it never does.
The streets of South East forever fill my arteries.
Telephone Road. Long Drive. Still a part of me.
Telephone Road. Long Drive. Still a part of me.
Telephone Road. Long Drive. Still a part of me.
The streets of South East forever fill my arteries.
Telephone Road. Long Drive. Still a part of me.
Telephone Road. Long Drive. Still a part of me.
Telephone Road. Long Drive. Still a part of me.
The streets of South East forever fill my arteries.
Telephone Road. Long Drive. Still a part of me.
Written by: Anthony Escalante, Lawrence Gurule, Mark Kidnay, Paul Anthony Ramirez, Randy J. Ramirez
