| (feat. Kanye West) | |
| I walked in the crib, got 2 kids, | |
| and my baby momma late (uh oh, uh oh, uh oh). | |
| So I had to did what I had to did, | |
| 'cause I had to give (do-ough, do-ough, do-ough). | |
| I'm up all night gettin' my money right, | |
| until the blue and whites (popo, popo, popo). | |
| Now the money coming slow, but at least a ***** know | |
| slow motion better than (no-oh, no-oh, no-oh) | |
| You love to hear the story, again and again | |
| about these young brothers from the city of wind. | |
| Like juice and gin in the city we blend | |
| amongst the hustle, titties and skin, fifties and rims. | |
| Y'all know the spreewells | |
| and trucks that's detailed, | |
| heartless females that wanna ride in 'em | |
| felt the southside in them with raw hides and denim, | |
| bent minds collide with them. | |
| A system that tries victims, we livin' in. | |
| My man in the fast lane pivotin', | |
| on the block ******* sellin' like m & m, | |
| on the block get jump off like Kim 'n 'em, | |
| on the block is how you can feel it in your skin-nin-nin. | |
| Shorties get the game with no instructions of asemblin', | |
| odds right it seems like the fight is dim in him. | |
| Call my man cuzin like I'm kin to him, | |
| he tryin' to stay straight, the streets is bendin' him. | |
| (Yo) I walked in the crib, got 2 kids, | |
| and my baby momma late (uh oh, uh oh, uh oh). | |
| So I had to did what I had to did, | |
| 'cause I had to give (do-ough, do-ough, do-ough). | |
| (Yo) I'm up all night gettin' my money right, | |
| until the blue and whites (popo, popo, popo). | |
| Now the money coming slow, but at least a ***** know | |
| slow motion better than (no-oh, no-oh, no-oh) | |
| It's all good in the hood like rats and gyms, | |
| fullbacks and tims, blacks and rims. | |
| Whether on ball courts, | |
| attires are ball shorts, | |
| we never fall short. | |
| With us it's all force like air ones. | |
| Some wave some air guns, | |
| the day of the fair ones it's over fo'. | |
| Cats is colder than four below, wha'sup? | |
| I go toe to toe | |
| wondering if it's for the art or for the dough. | |
| Though I know to grow a ***** gotta learn to let go, | |
| though I know the dough I gotta bring back to the ghetto. | |
| Aeros or Tarot cards pointin' to the grind, | |
| po' livin' and mo' prisons pointin' to my mind. | |
| Shine the light up! | |
| Clench my fists tight, holdin' it right up. | |
| Freedom fight in dark gear for the years to get brighter. | |
| Situations, the jaws get tighter, | |
| my man trying to get his way to higher | |
| (Yo..yo..yo) I walked in the crib, got 2 kids, | |
| and my baby momma late (uh oh, uh oh, uh oh). | |
| So I had to did what I had to did, | |
| 'cause I had to give (do-ough, do-ough, do-ough). | |
| I'm up all night gettin' my money right, | |
| until the blue and whites (popo, popo, popo). | |
| Now the money coming slow, but at least a ***** know | |
| slow motion better than (no-oh, no-oh, no-oh) | |
| Yo.. hey yo I, I know I could make it right | |
| if I can just swallow my pride, | |
| but I can't run away or put my gun away. | |
| You can't front on me! | |
| I, no I can't let it ride.. | |
| no no not tonight, | |
| no I can't run away or put my gun away. | |
| You can't front on me! |
Similar Songs
YouTube Results (More on YouTube)