Correction Lyrics Death & Taxes by Nicholas Craven & Boldy James

Back

Lyrics

Where we at?
Craven
Mr. Jackson, yeah
Let's get it

It's Mr. Price of Tea, can't understand these niggas for the life of me
How they was never none of the above what they was trying to be
Now, out the blue, they ConCreatures; I find that shit amusing
They thinking we the same, don't know that I'm not even human
Me and Bruno seasoned vets
Play with the work same way I treat my pets
Screaming, "Free the real", tell them to keep the rest
Niggas know who put on for the D, but won't give me the cred
Don't know too many niggas in the streets who beat the feds
Borderline anemic in Detroit, you gotta bundle up
Creature Gang, niggas gettin' horsed if they ain't one of us
In my ghetto where we play it every man for himself
Black and white paperwork, cleaner than the Board of Health
On the set, I done done some things but never gon' confess
At one point in time, seemed like that money had my soul possessed
Still drug zonin' on the 6 but this ain't Bouldercrest
Linked up with some real niggas out in Montreal, Quebec
Let's get it

I put that on the set
227 Creature Gang, we heavy on the press
Have my youngin knock a nigga down soon as he up the rod
A nigga play with Bo Jack, he getting struck to God
That's what you p*ssy niggas get for living in the past
Everything he did, it came back and bit him in the ass
Say you can run, but can't hide soon as we catch you lacking
It's two things you can't escape, nigga, that's death and taxes

Two-way deuce siete
Was six plus figures richer soon as we met with Jefe
This weed I smoke is funky as Le Pew, I call it Pepe
Speed Demon 392 float like a Segway
Collarbone on frigid, spinning up a four and a midget
Life is what you make it, He taketh and He giveth
SIG Sauer 227 limited edition
Flawless reputation, blemish free, I kept it mint condition
Got it the harder way, so you know I was penny pinching
Paranoid, quick to up the pole on any nigga clinching
Going forward in the clutch when it's 4th & inches
Slide down your chimney for that bag, all my nigga grinches
Hear niggas claim they from the gutter, but I'm from the trenches
Ghetto Olympics, hitting hurdles, I was jumping fences
Seventy-sixin' off of Curtis, got the junkies bingeing
Hunting for that drink, ain't found no purple, got my stomach cringin'
It's Blocks

music video

Your name will be published. Leave fields blanks to remain anonymous.