| Lyrics: | [Tek]
Blaka! That's my alarm clock a-shot
Empty out the clip, of a hooded kids glock
Out
on a mission, for the green, wit his team
Twistin up buds, puffin on, bloods, I mean
Always
red eye wit an evil schemin mind
Pullin off things wit his partners in crime
Not a care in
the world, he's seen plenty sniff riders
Runnin up in spots wit the calico and
shotties
Loungin on his strip wit his Timbs and his meth
His right hands man, on his side,
to the left
Never leave the drink without packin the burner
Got the streets smart, seen for
killin be murdered
It's, no relaxin, just taxin
Stoned Is The Way Of The Walk, when you
black and
Supportin habits is gettin too hectic
Gotta kick it wit my son about some ol' Next
Shit
(talking on phone)
[Steele]
Pressures be buildin in my mind sometimes and
ways
That have me countin the many reasons why crime pays
I think about the hustlin games,
should I maintain
Or flip and di-shift to the fast lane?
We got a mind, but it takes dough
to make bread
We workin wit cement try to make bricks
Time to make a call and get on the
ball
(Can't front G cuz we won't be ones to take a fall)
Heads recognize me, so they might
supply me
But if they try me, that wouldn't surprise me
But I |
