Tekst piosenki
Chea, State Property Criminal Records We'll show you exactly what takes place in the ghetto (that's right) [Hook] People used to tell me That I'll be just another nigga Livin' life in these cold streets And I don't wanna be Just another nigga People used to tell me That I'll be just another nigga Understand y'all don't know me Cause I'm not gonna be Just another nigga [Sparks] They say I'm just another nigga (another nigga) A malt liquor drinker, a marijuana smoker Sherman Heller, crack pusher You gotta serve fiends by all means To make cream to feed home I'm just another gangsta, breed homes Let me run wit my niggas Hug the corner, though it one day that same block That I love to hug, might leave me and to turn into a goner But I refuse to turn my back on my niggas How could I leave them Knowin' one day I might turn around and need 'em for (?) School me way back in the day A man should never bite the hand and feed 'em So we learned to break bread through in the month of Ramadan Together we grow fast, fell back I watched teams break up, top guns that broke down Fake fucks get faked down and fake pounds I got slugs to chase ya fake fucks the fuck down Police wanna know why I pack the piece That fills the stacks increase Ya dudes in the streets wanna ruin the face [Hook] [Oschino] I sat in my cell, watchin' the walls Sayin' reps in my head while I washed my drawers Life is hard, and pussies is soft (district attorneys) Scream, years involved in there snitch on they boss But not O, you know the jail thing I'm used to the scene Keep my blues wit a cuff, and my Converse clean I'm not pointin', snitchin', rattin', givin' a statement I'm the mind, body and soul of this nigga you get mavin I was raised by the PJ's, hung wit the essa's Took rocked nueve's, dip pull Chevy's Sold dope to strangers, shot at my roadies Smacked my young bitch in her face and broke her clothes Cause I wasn't focused everybody so shifty Life was crazy like I slipped it a nicky I'm just another nigga, no I'm more I'm a ex-con, a bank robber driver 'bout to go on tour [Hook] [Beanie Sigel] In '98 y'all couldn't trace my mug Now y'all hatin' wanna waste my blood Cause I'm eatin', wanna taste my grub Tell you what, I'll give you food for thought The spoon and fork, but y'all bitches doin' the dishes Feed you shells from the strafe I snubbed Now Prop's that's the case won't budge No prints pimp latex glove Lose in court, fuck you gon' prove in court? Sig don't believe in leavin' witness Shit ain't all good, different number different hood Duck and damn the sticks, disappear in the woods I duck cops and I lost neighbors Had to separate my neighbors acres, segregate the haters Y'all said that I'd be dead in the street Nigga, I'm gettin' bread tryin' to spread wit my peeps Sit behind the desk and a scraper I know I'm destined for greatness Y'all thought you'd read about my death in the papers, huh? [Hook]
Tłumaczenie
Brak

Najnowsze teksty piosenek

Sprawdź teksty piosenek i albumy dodane w ciągu ostatnich 7 dni