Snake Hollywood - Thug Eulogy lyrics
rate me(Intro)
This the scene, right here
It's calm, it; s real quiet
They say you neva see it while it's comin'
Just has a way of creeping up on you
And you're gone
(Hook)
This is what it sounds like when a thug cry
When a thug die, mothers cry, you wonder why
Burned alive, pour liquor on the ground spade
They love it when a nigga ain't around no more
No mo', this is what it sounds like when a thug screams
And they brother's greed sacrifice they mother's dreams
Write my name on the ball, put my face on the shirt
This is our song, this how we do it
(Verse)
Who I ran with, I ain't gotta name drop
Diddy bloppin' on the block wit the thang clopped
Nap sack full of work, niggas act like I won't take the muscle off the scrap and go berserk
In the trap, wit the passion, I'm strappin' up for the verse
Mixin' crack for the fable, and I splash it all on my shirt
Got my fiends on the lax, got my cruisers on patrol
Got the shooters with the rulers, got the stupid nigga smoke
Oh, niggas smoke weed and pray to king Selassie
That I won't catch a motherfucking body, it's name hollie
Ain;t nothin' change, it's still black on a red gray
And keep a bad bitch crabbed on a negligee
I neva sell the price of pain for the price of fame
Sacrifice my life perspective just for these dollars, mane
Ain't nothin' change, I'm livin' proof for that music booth
Lifestyle is nice while the money is resintable
This is what it sounds like when a thug cry screamin'
Bloody murder is a homicide,
When I die, let my brothers and my cursers put that purple in the sky
Spread my wings, motherfucker, let me fly in this life for mine
(Hook)
This is what it sounds like when a thug cry
When a thug die, mothers cry, you wonder why
Burned alive, pour liquor on the ground spade
They love it when a nigga ain't around no more
No mo', this is what it sounds like when a thug screams
And they brother's greed sacrifice they mother's dreams
Write my name on the ball, put my face on the shirt
This is our song, this how we do it
(Verse)
Tears at the funeral, flowers at the tombstone
.45 parlem in scrap, that's how the shooters roll
Bust a shot for my sons on the lock
And gym pop thuggin' don't stop
This for the goons, the savages, gorillas
The three time felony lifers with no feelin's
No remorse and no regard, scared
Cause in the darkness you can see the scars beneath my camouflage
Garment, street nigga, till they clean my Glock
And put my body on display for my people to watch
For my momma to mourn and my children to cry
They catch the lightning, try to hide, feelin' aside
But ain't no hidin' that, the kyne yakkin' in the rum
I was young, pullin' triggers for fun
We out here livin' fast, gettin' ass, gettin' cash
Niggas blastin', you can feel the bullets wizzin' past them
Automatic, my life is like a book, written by Dean Koontz
But I'm livin' the unforeseen truth
My demise is prophesied, but a coward dies
A thousand hundred times, tryna live this life for mine
And this is what it sounds like when a thug is murdered,
His body hit the curve before the shell hits, it ain't worth it
I know this life we livin' in ain't perfect, but it's the means to an end
Till the hurt strap the nigga, trap a circus
(Hook)
This is what it sounds like when a thug cry
When a thug die, mothers cry, you wonder why
Burned alive, pour liquor on the ground spade
They love it when a nigga ain't around no more
No mo', this is what it sounds like when a thug screams
And they brother's greed sacrifice they mother's dreams
Write my name on the ball, put my face on the shirt
This is our song, this how we do it
