Made It Through The Struggle

[Hook Young Scooter] I made it through that struggle, struggle I grinded out that gutter, gutter This a letter to my momma I never had a fuckin' father Ain't no mo going broke, ain't no mo' going broke Ain't no mo going broke, ain't no mo' going broke I made it through that struggle, struggle I grinded out that gutter, gutter [Verse 1 Young Scooter] Woke up broke 1000 times No days off, stayed on the grind You convicted of a felon you can't press rewind Had to think like 50 Cent, get rich or die trying For this Black Migo shit my life is on the line We made it out the struggle, through them hard times Juugin in that gutter gutter under them power lines I do this shit for my lil brother its like his kids mine Got me stressed out cause he fucked up facing all that time And its crazy cause he just had him another child And I got two myself, and I take care of my niggas I take care my family, now the world understand me [Hook + Verse Simmonds Vocals] [Verse 2 Mase] I'm thinkin' white hoodie, white shades White J's on white snow White Buggati and a white Ferrari With white diamonds on white gold White grill, white Benz Rolling around with my white friends White fur and the right rims You say my name and you write in I'm no fan of him I got the ammo in You wanna handle him and who stand with him I got the Lambo' in, I'm in the Mandarin I got the mask on I'm Rip Hamilton Shawty acting like a mannequin I told her quit with the shenanigans She said she gone key my car I'm still never gonna be your man again See murder in the trap is a boobie Young Scooter and Gucci So many Maybachs out front niggas think I'm rolling with Pucci I ain't taking no jewelry off, you gone cock nigga come shoot me I ain't ready for the old murder then what you gonna do with the new me? (Whoop!) [Hook + Verse Simmonds Vocals] [Verse 3 Young Scooter] My daddy could die today and it still won't mean shit to me Six years old why I ain't have shit to eat? My stomach empty balled up, I can't get no sleep Couldn't wait to go to school, that's my meal all week Used to watch from the nosebleeds, now I got floor seats Used to catch rides, now its foreign four seats A 350 bands, that's a four-four a week My momma called my phone, talked to my daddy last week He heard I got a song on the streets called Colombia My daddy smoke Colombia, so daddy I don't fuck with ya My momma raised a hustler, momma was a hustler Gotta thank my momma, had to move her out the gutter