Corrección Letra 211 In Progress par Young Dopey

Regreso

Letra

Told Mr. Criminal
That I'm a criminal
That the way I live
Is sort of biblical
In my neighborhood
I’m a f**king general
Being watched by the police and the federals
Having visions of a meal ticket money back
Being broke that's something there I can't imagine
So I set a meeting up with the Crime Family
Had a blueprint to rob a bank
So we all planned it
Pass me the blammer
Bout to go bananas
Everybody down, if not I’m a let you have it
Hockey mask on, to conceal the face
Cause i can't leave my son alone
And fight another case (never)
Heaven on on earth
Give us this daily bread
Make it quick, if not I'm a shoot you in the head
I ain't got no type of muthaf**king patience
Cause I was raised West Inglewood Crazy
Lately playboy I been struggling
Got to pay the rent
And my baby momma buggin man
She always b*t*hing at me
Instead of hugging me
So guess what I'm out on the streets thugging it (west side)
Gotta hurry up fill up the duffel bag
Gotta scram cause the police gonna come fast
They rolling up, so I'm loading up
I ain't going back to jail
So the gun fire up

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