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Album: Track 10 on The Last Street Preacha
Rate: Street Life gets avg. rating 5.3 out of 10 based on 3 ratings. Rate the song now!!!
[T-Bone] Yo picture me rollin like Pac in a drop gold double are Women, champagne, weed, cigars and caviar Livin tha life of a thug, movin em drugs, duckin em slugs Dealin wit phones tapped wit bugs, plus Associated wit some hard hittas, cold killas Convicts, thugs and drug dealers Cop killas, and drug lords stackin 8 figures Quick to pull a trigga and leave a body floatin in the river We gorillas in this jungle collectin mad skrilla Bankin on cheddar and cream, from dope fiends From a land where everybody gotta fend for themselves Half of the mommies doin 25 to life in a cell Seems like we dwell in the pits of hell wit no bail Chained up, captive and tortured by the enemy's spell Who hears my cries from these lonely jail cell And what do I profit to lose my soul and gain from drug sales [Chorus] Livin the street life Crystal, drugs and crushed ice Hangin wit plays who plain hiest and roll dice In casinos like Bugsy Siegal We outlaws forever livin illegal Tha street life [T-Bone] A yo, the street life is the only life I know taught to hustle these streets and grind to make dough Cope the 4-4, jump in the 6-4 Blast on my adversaries then end up on death row Yo, this was the life I seen raised as a youth Where everybody smokin chronic, sippin 98 proof ain't no happy days and sunshine In my hood is jus crime, cryin for one time Slugs flyin, and everybody tryin to come up in this evil drug game Insane, vision of murder just increase the pain Cocaine and methamphetamine I want out, but gave an oath to the death of me So let it be, Ima ride on my enemy But when they bury me, I fear where my soul will be Eternally searchin for light patna, but I'm in the midst of the dark Its so hard, when you in this ghetto prison lookin for God [Chorus] [T-Bone] Another homie dies, so I wipe the tears from my eyes And ask God how many lonely painful tears will I cry Seems like nobody even cares out here in the hood I tried to get a job, but they swear I'm up to no good Misunderstood from a young age, on a rampage From an adolescent carryin hollow points in a smith-n-wesson For anybody second guessin, if I'm scared to test em ain't nothin even worth livin for The richa gettin richa and the ghetto remains poor Liqour stores and gun shops And everybody wonder why thugs pack glocks and kill cops Full of hurt since birth, why was I placed on this earth Seems like everybody in this ghetto is cursed wit a curse And what's worse, is that my potnah dyin at a fast rate Dear God can you help me out, I'm lookin for an escape [Chorus]
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