Snowgoons - The Ill Bunch lyrics

rate me

You have not seen the scenery

Don't know what it's like to be with me

See the heathens speak easily on easy street

Yeah, they living like they villains but our children need a meal

On the block clocking but that type of time will kill

(Yeah, tell em why you mad homie, tell em how you feel)

You bet you right, damn sure I will

When I got my deal, life was looking up

Now I could give a fuck cause them record labels steal

Still we struggle to live with my kid to my arms

I uplift the strong, the hood on my back, my missus on my lap

And still I react, dip and dodging the traps

Yes, rap was born where I'm from

God praised me as a son so I rep till I'm done

We roll on niggas like a bunch of I'll Greeks

With heats and keep these streets hot like we

We born together like some sheiks from the middle east

Yo, late night bodega run, I ran into my little dun

Sitting there looking through the barrel of a devil's gun

He talking about a body that he caught and he on the run

Out of state trying to get that extra cake major fun

Who I am to tell him? I'm a felon

Just came home from packing a pack in the back and drug selling

Shortie rebelling, man he just like me

I remember when I was sixteen hugging the streets

I had the OG's trying to screw me, I walked away like fuck you

I'm nutso and flashed the toolie

Half my niggas doing life or smoking boulies

Shortie when you're looking at the mirror looking at me

But my advice to this little nigga, you gotta take flight

Relocate from the hood and start a new life

I'm sick of liars, sick of bitches and sick of friends

I'm sick of

I'm sick of fakers, law makers, and life takers

That just throw you away then go and eat pizza

Laugh about it, it's getting crowded up in the game

Too many bout it bout it but really ain't bout a thing

Too many make it rain in their songs but the thing

Is in real life you won't see them throwing a thing

Been through the seven seas, Jim Beam, Tennessee

You call it whiskey, me I call it risky

Police frisk me hitting me with the metal things

Like it's no rules, hit the ProTools

And burn it down with my peeps from the Snowgoons