|
Bo Jackson Jersey Lyrics - Artist : Crooked I
Yeah, man
I remember being real young Just a young 14-year-old kid Throw on my Vans and my Bo Jackson jersey The block smokin', I hope the Lord has some mercy These California corners are coroners, you get toe tagged, you heard me? The four blast, you won't last in surgery Shit, think of the kids when I stroll past the nursery Why they gotta grow up just to see somebody show up? Shoot they bro up in broad day No mask, just served it (My Brother Dizz made this) You made it to your twenties, probably won't last to thirty We thuggin', we nowhere near peace Devil speakin' to us without the wireless earpiece Tellin' us not to fear beef I'm layin' on Jay's car, Jay is bangin' some Gang Starr Bet you never saw Crips C-Walkin' to Premier beats Walk into the house, see my cousin on the couch Pull a cartridge out a jammed hammer for ammo My brother got a can of Vano starchin' his bandana Arguin' with Orlando from Santana Block about last night's Laker game Now Orlando's dead and it ain't the same Damn, why they take you, mane? I take a shot of Black Cherry Cisco so I could take the pain and swallow the whole bottle Fuck it, it's ghetto Gatorade That's for Orlando, he was solid as hell I got some homies that went to college as well I got some homies that joined the FOI seekin' knowledge of self Said we had problems, that Allah could help Like obituaries all on our shelf Damn, my friends gettin' merked up Looked out the window, I seen little Bobby skirtin' up Drivin' a Cluckers work truck, gun up under his shirt, tucked Said he ready to kill, my nigga turnt up Yeah, I remember it like it was yesterday and shit Nigga was so hot that he got Orlando He was ready to kill everything movin' Shoot low or hit 'em high, you know? Shit crazy, man Shit crazy Life was simple before I got my first hundred racks We was young and black, kids flippin' on a couple mats No one hustled crack, shit, we was watchin' Thundercats No one bustin' gats then piecin' up on Jumbo Jacks at Jack in the Crack Pour sauce on the fake tacos We ate nachos, cheese drip on my gray Lotto As time passed, shit got deeper than Lake Tahoe We put enough weight in the street to create potholes Death told us early retirement's a requirement But I ain't buyin' it 'cause my mind'll just think outside of this violent environment I'm inspired in spite of it My dreams so big, I could fit yours inside of it Might have lived terribly but now I'm seekin' clarity Givin' back to charity 'cause charity's my therapy You rappers all parodies, repeatin' like some parakeets My bars harder than tar, time to repair the streets Yeah, it's time to take the streets back, you know? Now I don't like this energy I'm feelin' out here Niggas ain't tellin' the whole story, just half of it Glorifying the shit We got homeboys dead, homeboys locked up for life Time to take back the streets with this rap shit Nah'mean? I got the Horseshoe in here Sauce the Boss in here You know what I mean? Family Bvsiness Shoutout Kyle, what's happenin', man? Salt Lake City, what up? All my worldwide C-O-Bs, what up my COB? I see all y'all motherfuckers next week My nigga Dizz My nigga Dizz Hahahahaha Classic Ayy yo, Nate, let's get out of here |
Other Lyrics
|
Copyright © 2009-2024 |