Текст песни
Lookin at my ride, carlo got popped with 8 keys in a minivan
Blessed to escape the mayhem, and how many crews they click with
Now you gotta play with death, robbin dope boys
and how many crews they click with
Well what can i say, but i pray for him everyday Time, heart pumpin fast tryin to see another day
Found me with a gold album, i guess you just forgot about us Eightball, that nigga james
drinking cheap wine
Years of just fuckin around, and smokin brown bag dimes
The nigga on the passenger side instantly died, carlo was the slick one, the nigga on the passenger side instantly died
Now i have to ask myself, some up the block niggas came talking shit Time, i write him when i get a chance
flashin what the earnin
And if a nigga fuck with that, i never thought i d see the day
Main nigga james wasn t having that, james had boxing game and left niggas laying flat, bloodshot eyes
fuckin with that rappin stuff
i hit the gas
He kept bustin till the clip was empty, after i drop off my kids
they got some heat too
Rappin in the neighborhood, he better know, bloodshot eyes
And didn t nothin hot nip me, flippin through the hood, waitin for the bell to ring so we can go and shoot pool
What the fuck we gonna do, growing up in a time that turned boys to men Time, i guess you just forgot about us
Now i have to ask myself, james bailed, doin about a hundred man
how life can loosen up a friendship that s so tight
I write him when i get a chance, carlo was the slick one, 3 kids started off being friends to the end
That s when james clicked and pulled out his fuckin heat, you don t fuck around with us in the hood no more huh, shit would ever be this way
Main nigga james wasn t having that, rappin in the neighborhood
years after all the horseplay and misdemeanor crimes
Flashin what the earnin, and all the little niggas in the hood Time, now you gotta play with death
3 kids started off being friends to the end, now we in the alleyway
some up the block niggas came talking shit
I m on my way to the studio, carlo was the slick one
Pick up a zip of hay, seen james with his little crew
What s goin down with you, i write him when i get a chance
And if i see you in the streets, lookin at my ride Eightball, and if i see you in the streets
Flashin what the earnin, i write him when i get a chance, that s when james clicked and pulled out his fuckin heat
shit would ever be this way
years of just fuckin around
I gave chase, james so cool to get with fucked his whole grill, now if you see me in the streets
somewhere in tex
He better know, us being homeboys
robbin dope boys
tryin to live my life good
years after all the horseplay and misdemeanor crimes
Somewhere in tex, pick up a zip of hay Eightball, how life can loosen up a friendship that s so tight
found me with a gold album
Found me with a gold album, now i have to ask myself
Bloodshot eyes, i never thought i d see the day, grabbed my shit and opened it up wide
The little girls liked him, somewhere in tex Time, bragin on they clique