Corrección Letra Back To Tha Front par Mistah F.a.b.

Featuring(s) : Styles P & Blast Holiday

Regreso

Letra

Coming up [?] in the seat
Thinking one day I could be the president
No one told me I would be hated
Should out to G.O.G. cause we made it
Put us in the back, the back like rozer
Now we're in the front, in the front like frozer
Sayin' it will be alright
Cause we started from the back
Now we're in the front, front, front

[Mistah]
Shit, watching cartoons at my granny house
With nine other cousins in my granny house
Damn, all of our mamas all dope, dope
All of out father only go
I was raised at the bottom by the junkeys with the crack pipes
Dirty surrender in the toilet right by the crack light
Retching rotchers running high man as the cracking light
Crack hands all you when we call that shit crack pipes
Gun shots rip the shade off the window
I was nine when I first tried indoor
All we hear [?] you sail on the tindow
You ain't when you're asking with say she, say she didn't know
Cold, but that's the way it was
Cousin in the kitchen anywhere it goes
Tryin to talk to God, but ain't no way it was
I'm just sayin man that's just the way it was

[Blast Holiday]
Since the earth spin in circles I need to learn to move backwards
And murd nigga to first second they hurt me
No limit, need millers like persey
The pract the versus emunition dispersing
Cocaine paradise and [?]
Cocaine abusing parents adopt child was birthed in
Ain't death to pop, wasn't popular in school
But well known on the block
Was the high president, the man not dressed in suits
They strangle the rubber bands
No White House, the shoot bucks a douple bag
Bodyguards a high security if you come for that
Crums is what I come from, I'm proud of it
I'm quiet, but my guns get loud like piff
Take a puff and realize I'm blessed
Guilty, play the innocent soon as they arrest, uh

[Styles P]
I know a lot of pen barely speaking on it
Lane in the back, barely sleeping on it
Seating at the table rarely eating on it
Used to dream about making songs, now feature on em
A lot of pain on the path took
A lot of love once gone, we left the hash cook
Love to see my son up in the math book
But when I was that age, I could tell you how to crack look
Me and my homies lost our innocence
You could say the streets made us militants
But you know the ghetto element
You wanna be the drug president or your residents
(it's like that)
I'm sayin prayers for the lost souls
From the back to the front, to the cross roads
So you could say we the found souls
So we thank God break rear let the [?] blow

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