lirik lagu inspired by true events – crook brown & samtrax
[intro: crook brown]
yeah
southside crook
inspired by true events
[chorus: crook brown]
this a open letter from a trill n*gga
this a open letter from a trill n*gga
hit them p*ssy n*ggas wit’ the steel, n*gga
all that tough talkin’ get you k!lled, n*gga
this a open letter from a trill n*gga
this a open letter from a trill n*gga
hit them p*ssy n*ggas wit’ the steel, n*gga (brrr)
all that tough talkin’ get you k!lled, n*gga
[verse 1: crook brown]
son of a saint, but i’m one wit’ the demons
since adolescence, i don’t made my assessment for money, i’m fiendin’
and to be real, it’s abundance of reasons
but i just want it, patеnt leather, cool greys, thе money for pizza
forgive me momma, i know i’m a heathen
when church folks know your son sell dope, should you like it beneath ’em
like for once, just try to be decent
but i can’t, plus them motherf*ckers fake, i’m not a believer
what kinda world where they k!lled my n*gga cigarette
how lil’ earl get a bullet? n*gga wasn’t a threat
f*ck all that cool sh*t, stay dangerous
golden rule, if you rep it, then you better bang it, ahh
[pre*chorus: crook brown]
i’m wit’ whatever from the start, n*gga, no pressure
i break the necks and pull yo cards, n*gga
whenever i jumped off the porch and n*ggas asked me where i’m from
i told ’em straight, college motherf*ckin’ park, n*gga, ayy
[chorus: crook brown]
this a open letter from a trill n*gga
this a open letter from a trill n*gga
hit them p*ssy n*ggas wit’ the steel, n*gga (bow)
all that tough talkin’ get you k!lled, n*gga
this a open letter from a trill n*gga
this a open letter from a trill n*gga
hit them p*ssy n*ggas wit’ the steel, n*gga (brrr)
all that tough talkin’ get you k!lled, n*gga
[verse 2: samtrax]
uh
we from [?] [1:43], smokin’ pistol on the counter
tryna turn a four and a baby to a f*ckin’ mountain
young n*gga wit’ the ambition
all i needed was a couple kicked doors and the ammunition
if it’s a drought and you got it, then i’m on the way
very first time you hit a l!ck, feel like the sba
is there a heaven for a thug, n*gga?
where i’ll be greeted at the gate by all the scammers and the drug dealers, lord
i’m in your spot, you besta up the paper
make any false move, n*gga, you gon’ meet your maker
and b*tch, shut up all that cryin’, it’s what come wit’ it
oh you thought it was all shoppin’ sprees and spondivits?
nah, go get that motherf*ckin’ work, ho, lord
or you gon nap up under dirt, ho, god
the game cold and i’m outside
a young thuggin’ motherf*cker screamin’ “southside”
(southside, southside, southside, southside
southside, southside, southside, southside)
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