Chi-raq kid big city dreams Watch them all burn up for love of the green Dope flow over dope game or a dope fein Smoking dirt green cup full of codiene (damn I Feel So Good) Purple rain in the back of my throat Help me write another note Or provoke my thoughts That I lost in the bottom of this potion Hoping smoking loose my emotions Motion slowly over dosing Real hip-hop gone flip flop No dought in the back of my mind I could get shot in the ass lead to my spine Ricashay to the head (now you know) he dead Could of been the best rapper in history read Instead I'm misery cause you been dead Brenda had babies and babies was lovers But lovers was lieers that turned in to thuggers Them thuggers grew and they beat on mothers Ska-skeet on my mothers Dope fiens was my mothers No daddy or mother I fiend for a lover No cover or brother protect me from others Burning my feelings please spark up another (But G's Got Yo Back) and that's why I love 'em A criminal family That terrorize barely Portrayed as a monster Engage in it rarely Engaged to the game Could have sworn we get married Same dirty bitch that had stole both my parents So I got on one knee and I showed her the carrots I pulled out the ring and she told me shed wear it Traded a Glock and I swore that id bare it Whenever I'm crusing just me homies Incase niggas lacking or see an opponent Opps on my block tryna pop rocks Gotta pop up Flash that blast that ash that pass that better let it go Smoking that mid that loud that dro Lord help my soul you just don't know (Yeah, yeah) I'm a sinner but my heart is made of gold Hunt for my soul Die for this gold Living is nothing Surviving is something Chi-raq jungle my niggas be hunting Yea I'm in the field but the feel ain't real Till you feel that heat like the back of a grill Formaly farming for forigenly grills Shit sound sick but I want it to be ill Tryna flip this blow into Beverly Hills Till Beverly falls in the hood and its all good Wood grain won't jag but the jag on the hood (Yep) From the mid west If you ain't bout cash get a bullet to the chest Yo hands up high on squad on set No time for the bull catch a bullet to the chest Always on bull chi-raq what I rep Bear hug Black hawk White sox Layed off payed off made off made up short cut fade off I'm May-day cray-zay Know you hate me Love me maybe I don't give a (fuck!) cause ya'll niggas can't rate me Quit playing Rearranging Rip strip grip motherfuckas endangered Real angel put a baby in a manger Never gave a fuck about soci-etys nieghbor Only bout fucking these thots getting paper I ain't even know I was seen as the danger One thing wrong go off in an anger Click-clack-blam mutha-fuckas get Bangerd Think you could live on the side that I came from Never ever clever without a berreda ready To turn his brains to spaghetti And (Fuck'em all up)Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
