Correction Paroles Ghetto Kyote par Kano

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Paroles

I’m from the hood but it’s just home and ain’t no place like home sweet home
There’s a whole deep of heat on the street, some plastic and some chrome
I’m old school like classics, I love a one on one but I can play gun on gun
Some talk a good game but they ain’t practical, and they won’t clap the tool
I’ll clap old n***as, I’ll clap n***as in school
If you don’t wanna play gun to mum, let’s play knife to wife
I’ll stab b*t*hes I’m cruel, why waste a clip I’m poor
If it’s war I might roll up to the whip, open doors and hold up your b*t*h
When the four’s open, fire back off, you gotta back off cuh you might get holes in your hips
Respect the fireball respect me, if you reppin for the hood you represent me
And I be where 50 cent be in a club with no bub just some Hennessey and bales of weed
I’m bad breed, watch your back if you say you’re ahead of me
c*ck em back, be prepared just know that, I ain’t scared just know that
Buss thru the letter holes in their creps where the toes at
See your letterholes mind your step, I hold that
Once I start I can’t hold back
Who’s gonna hold me back once I start you’re crazy
Shut you up with a dum-dum you baby
Gets much deeper, take away your son like a night wrecker in a day scheme and put the heater to his head and sing rock-a-bye baby

KA, blowing up road, KAN, shotting like O’s
KA slash Kano with the flow again, you can’t catch Kano there I go again
Gash, Kano’s got a batch of em, Papes, Kano’s got a stack of em
Got a lash on them n***as watching my cash come in
Got a MASH for them n***as that’s too masculine
KA, every damn day I’m on the road tryna get paid
So hot like we sunbathe in a blacked out golf with Shane
I bravo Brunel and Dage
You know my aim’s to make money and sonny you know the way
Check the grams you know the weight
And I got mounds on the block with plans for the Glock
It’s KA, down for a lot, down to shot, down to shoot, down to rob
Down to buss verse, I’m down to earth, down to put you 6 feet down to earth
Bang down your doors like trick or treat
Treat me with P’s cause trips to heat
And you don’t want to mix the heat with a cold heart, cause I know you got sh*t to eat
Ay-Oh, and you know I’m on the road tryna get dough
Love the road and can’t let go
Still tryna build my P’s up like Lego
Still rude still won’t say hello
Still like old school tunes like bellow
Still good, still hood, still Ghetto
Still K, Still A, Still NO, still mellow
Still about that paper, quick P’s tryna catch that paper
Still cash or gash, and then lash your gash an hour later
I won’t be long, in the game that’s where I belong
Making change that’s what I been on
And if your girl don’t come home, then you know what she’s been on

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