Vídeo da música

Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Yelawolf
Yelawolf
Vocals
Willpower
Willpower
Programming
Rittz
Rittz
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Michael Atha
Michael Atha
Songwriter
James Bryan McCullom
James Bryan McCullom
Songwriter
William Washington
William Washington
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Willpower
Willpower
Producer
Dave Kutch
Dave Kutch
Mastering Engineer
Irvin Johnson
Irvin Johnson
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Jason Wilson
Jason Wilson
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Matthew Hayes
Matthew Hayes
Mixing Engineer

Letra

Once upon a time in an apartment home Lived a little girl with a heart of stone Cause part of her heart was partly gone Rarely seen and hardly known Treated like a mat on a boxing ring Blood drop stains on the twin box springs Daddy came to visit it's not a dream She thought to herself what is happening? Above her head is a crucifix But Lucifer loosens up his wrist Lays her down with an open fist And all that was left was hopelessness Little girl, where's your loving mother? Under the covers, under the covers Little girl what have you discovered She stuttered, Growin' up in the gutter No more, fairy tales, and so No place like hell, no place like home Growin' up in the gutter Black and white, in a frame There we are, safe and sound Stray guns, no aim, yea! Growin' up in the gutter! And you ain't gotta be from the projects To deal with this nonsense Cuz even in suburbia somebody will murder ya Over nothin' leave your body slumpin' In the parking lot of your complex Violence is a hard pill to swallow and digest My town is full of drug dealers Most of them get shot in the process Hustlin' and stackin' up profits They robbin mutherf*ckas like they havin' a contest Shit, he took a b*tch to his apartment to brag A week later he tied up on the carpet and gagged Cause he showed her all the pills he had for sale for the low She told her cousin then her cousin grabbed a glock and a mask Kicked in his door laid him down Then he shot him and dashed Ran off with all that he had He used to be ballin' now he got a colostomy bag What you know about that Middle class white b*tch slangin' her body for crack Mexican drug cartels, you hear the buck shot shells And then the blood clot fails, there ain't no healin' the wounds Biggest meth bust on the east coast right here in Duluth My lyrics are proof of growin' up in the gutta You think you can define how hard you got it?! By what neighborhood you live in muthaf*cker Wake up in the gutter! No more, fairy tales, and so No place like hell, no place like home Growin' up in the gutter Black and white, in a frame There we are, safe and sound Stray guns, no aim, yea! Growin' up in the gutter! Slumerican indeed, I am Drug through the mud like a weed, what I am Was child who was beat, I am Leather belts that made me, I am Home alone again at 8, I am Somebody's life to rate, I am Given to the beast by fate, I am The one who did escape, I am A voice for the cold in the dark, I am The one who sold his heart, I am From a family torn apart, I am A target for your dart, I am Sick again from the whips, I am Head to the gun and click, I am A soul that don't run from shit, I am Exposed to the g.o.a.t.s. of sin, I am Met a ghost and he said, I am In the basement in red, I am Dead cause the Ouija board said, I-A-M Growin' up in the gutter No more, fairy tales, and so No place like hell, no place like home Growin' up in the gutter Black and white, in a frame There we are, safe and sound Stray guns, no aim, yea! Growin' up in the gutter!
Writer(s): Michael Atha, William Booker Washington, Jonny Mccullom Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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