Mitchy Slick - Tickets lyrics
rate me[Hook]
Hard pain for the homies that’s dead and gone
Wish I could feel all the homies that ain’t coming home
Blownin can’t stop got a rep to uphold
Whole bunch of killers waiting for the kind to blow
That’s why the backseat’s filled up with slow
Knock some fresh every time we do shows
Wrong kind of fresh crew always get chosen
Erybody rolling, know they getting tickets to the gold
I ain’t never met another nigga who go hard like me
Drop around my knocker nigga, that’s on the beat
I started from the slums, fresh on the bricks
90 days later had a bad white bitch
Now ask yourself this, how could I do a dozen
Hit the strip get some chips and merely start bubbling
Po on my ass too, homies looking at me funny, say I never slide through
But I did 3000 count times, so I be damned if a nigga speak about mine
Bubbling, it’s all up in my blood streams
I can run the bench, as long as it’s the winning team
Cause we bout to have a balling fest
And it’s a ticket, nothing more, nothing less, I got you
So while you hollin at that model bitch
I’m in her ear, tryina turn her to a throttle bitch
[Hook]
Hard pain for the homies that’s dead and gone
Wish I could feel all the homies that ain’t coming home
Blownin can’t stop got a rep to uphold
Whole bunch of killers waiting for the kind to blow
That’s why the backseat’s filled up with slow
Knock some fresh every time we do shows
Wrong kind of fresh crew always get chosen
Erybody rolling, know they getting tickets to the gold
Lighten up, for the homies that’s locked up
Pouring up brown liquor, till a nigga stuck
For the homies facing life, I wish em luck
I wish his moms well, shooters kill some bucks
Ticket is the motivation so I pass them buds
Ran into the paper, how the hell am I past him up
Gram after gram swisher, I’m rolling the mud
Show after show dope, I’m breaking up
Hard for the pay yo, a half yukan tulula
Pink toe a minessota, get paid in that order
Do what it do, to make the east rise
Rap money slow, but my p game supersize
This for my street niggas, eyes on the ticket
Roll how I mingles bitch, I got tunnel vision
Can’t forget my riders walking off a club in Donovan
Jump a nigga off the mazing them
[Hook]
Hard pain for the homies that’s dead and gone
Wish I could feel all the homies that ain’t coming home
Blownin can’t stop got a rep to uphold
Whole bunch of killers waiting for the kind to blow
That’s why the backseat’s filled up with slow
Knock some fresh every time we do shows
Wrong kind of fresh crew always get chosen
Erybody rolling, know they getting tickets to the gold
The gold, easily attainable, Arizona’s the cold place the detain my bro
Dre mac will do a dub before they let him go
Through the book of sugar chefs, say it ain’t so
Cardiac arrest if a judge gave me that time
Hope the shit work out with mac dime
Hard getting rich with so many homies need you
Wish I could just not give a fuck like he do
See dudes that match eliminators for the homies
That’s what we talked about before the shit got funky
Balling bullshit when the homies ain’t reaching
Used to bounce a tray why I bob a hung out the window
Million dollar p dreams real not it, I’m awake
Got a million things to say to make her wanna catch a date
Carl, circle, paper plates, picnic in every day
See me on mtv jams around on the blake
[Hook]
Hard pain for the homies that’s dead and gone
Wish I could feel all the homies that ain’t coming home
Blownin can’t stop got a rep to uphold
Whole bunch of killers waiting for the kind to blow
That’s why the backseat’s filled up with slow
Knock some fresh every time we do shows
Wrong kind of fresh crew always get chosen
Erybody rolling, know they getting tickets to the gold.
