Lyrics

Born in the system where the cops stay patrolling And the youngins never listen Lil' maniacs runnin' 'round with knuckle heads While they baby mamas trippin' Born in the system where the cops stay patrolling And the youngins never listen Lil' maniacs runnin' 'round with knuckle heads While they baby mamas trippin' Look I was born in the 90's All I seen was blindness Bandana over my face I wish to rewind this Born in Inglewood moved out of the hood All that yip-yap got us packing to moved back to the hood Sunny 909, I smell the fresh smoke marijuana Race wars and drug lords with one time where they hunt us I never know about the possibilities the hood would bring to me Surrounded by OGs and methamphetamines At 14 my homie got his first gun Telling me now we on, now we'll never run I was a troublesome kid, I had to make it out Breaking into people's pads while they was in the house Tryna find a place to crash 'cause I was out mines Moms kicked me out for livin' in that state of mind So it's back to the streets on Holt Avenue Black Honda pulls up, where you from fool Aye, what's good, homie Born in the system where the cops stay patrolling And the youngins never listen Lil' maniacs runnin' 'round with knuckle heads While they baby mamas trippin' Born in the system where the cops stay patrolling And the youngins never listen Lil' maniacs runnin' 'round with knuckle heads While they baby mamas trippin' I do a left, do a right but they kept coming My bloody face through the night have my mind stumbling They reached under their waist, pulled out a chrome strap Give me your phone, give me your bike and your fucking hat Started believing that I probably wasn't here for a reason Breathing out, out and in, with my heart just beating Started misbelieving, if life's got a purpose 'Cause if it does then I feel like I don't deserve it Snapbacks with my spray cans in back packed I'm willing to risk it all and there's no going back Street raised outlaw, raised with no luck Never had a father figure so he never gave a fuck No one taught him better, all he knows is get that cheddar Lace up them shoelaces, zip up that pro luck sweater Block boy trenches, certified business Solidify witness of a Cali definition
Writer(s): Abraham Contreras Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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