Текст песни
Yo we on?
Alright ride it
Momma always told me about the side of this city
Momma always told me about the side of this city
Momma always told me about the side of this city
Momma always told me about the side of this city
See I ain't listen
Momma always told me about the side of this city
See I ain't listen
Momma always told me about the
Momma always told me about the side of this city
Momma always told me about the side of this city
Momma always told me about the side of this city
But I ain't
But I ain't listen
About the side of this city see I ain't listen
Momma always told me
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
Checking in with y'all
We Gone take it back real quick
Back when God, Back when God delivered
You from them situations, yeah you know them
Situations, Don't act like you don't know what we
Talking about, You know? yeah you knew
Talk to em
What's a day from sycamore avenue?
Was babbling mumbling verbs I gotta prove
Like science fair's on the day that's due, Stupid kids
Was roaming these neighborhood's funny we know
The outcome of crime guess God gave us a conscious too
So The only way to fly out the block was to be Lebron and
Pray to God that one day these new casters would come
They Casper see they didn't show up we traded Spaulding for guns
And trapping keys like we stacking bricks on my mommas lawns
My Homie in the cell doing time like Rolex watch, The only things
That matters to him to watch the clocks, reminiscing on patience
Them day you didn't know hatred, phone chirping from girls so when
You had they digits you made it, Pillow talks from this lil momma
She said was-sup? The Lust burning like the flames of the Hebrew
Boys in the furnace
Holy spirit speaking son yield, we was supposed to link at 5
I missed my ride that day her house got shot inside, God's Will
Yeah, Yeah
I Never graduated from college
To earn a simple degree
I rather obtain my knowledge
From cook-in workin these streets
Man its obvious my fathers figure
Were nothin but drug dealers
With more bread than jiffy like its homemade cornbread
Momma said
Don't you run mouth
Unless you run this house
I guess i'm running out
Packing my bags
Gather my cash
I'm ducking my stepdad
Because his tendencies
Is to close to my last dad
Got war in my heart
Life like its bagdad
Lord knows my empty soul is captivated by things that keep me enslaved
To wanting to be So famous
But little do i know
That my soul was jus on the ropes
And i'm fighting to keep it close
Cuz these demons want me to fold
My heart is growing so cold
Look down
Pick up my phone
A message coming from God, its ringing i pray i answer and won't deny