Tonalité : C minor
Intro 1
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Verse 1
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I always knew
life could be super short
Ever since they busted
out the super sport
Brevity, levity, better I could never be
Young for a nigga born in the late 70s
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Heavenly my wife cause she
loves me in spite
All the crazy shit I be saying
when we fight
Shot a kite till my nigga locked up, now
Ree's home
Makin' music for the kids,
bitch, we grown
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Put your phone down, look me in the eye
Or you could talk that shit to another guy
I swear to
God I will kick you in the butt and fly
And jump up and down on your
skull till you fuckin' die
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Y probably wanna dance, so ignore me
That club life ain't never been for me
You basic bitches just bore me
If I gotta buy you a drink,
you can't afford me
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Gunshots on a good day
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No ski mask, that's the hood way
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Lil' kids wishin' that they
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could play
Lookin' for a hook or somethin'
Jay -Z would
I got two shots left in my 22 two -step
Two shots left in my 22 two -step
Two shots left in my 22 two -step
Two shots left in my 22 two -step
Deuce deuce in my tennis shoe
Hood nigga brought a burner
to the interview
Might catch a beef on the bus home
Tell them bang bang bullies get the fuck on
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Hit my zone with a brand new playlist
Walked right past my ex, didn't say shit
Then I changed my mind like, bitch,
tell your new boyfriend he can't fake this
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Spent my last check on some new kicks,
the rest at the movies on my new chick
I got fired on some bullshit,
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snitch fuck boy that I never should've fooled with
And I ain't never wrote a resume,
but I had my cousin make me one yesterday
I need more hours and some better pay,
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back when I was hustlin' that's somethin' I would never say
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Gunshots on a good day
F
Am
No ski mask, that's the hood way
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Am
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Lil' kids wishin' that
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they could play
Lookin' for a hooker, somethin'
Jay -Z would
F
Am
I got two shots left in my 22, two -step
Two shots left in my 22, two -step
Two shots left in my 22, two -step
Two shots left in my 22, two -step
Ten toes down, 1979
Southern
California dummy,
reppin' heavy with mine
These motherfuckin' actors
are not onto a factor
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Killer
Reese, runner, is a cold black bastard
No master, no father, I raised me crazy
A n***a clean it up when
I had a couple babies
But maybe, just maybe,
you get to obey me
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Fresh out the county, feelin' crazy
No meds in eight months,
feelin' tunk, don't play me
I used to be a mess, my n***a
Only thing could kill me was stress,
my n***a
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Had to get acid to rest, my n***a I just did a couple years,
none left, my n***a
I can't do another stretch, my nigga,
so it's either shut it down or it's death, my nigga
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F
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Gunshots on a good day, no ski mask,
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F
that's the hood way
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Lil' kids wishin' that they could play,
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lookin' for a hook or somethin'
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Jay -Z would say
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Am
I got two shots left in my 22 -2 step
Two shots left in my 22 -2 step
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Two shots left in my 22 -2 step
Two shots left in my 22 -2 step
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