Bambu - Last Year lyrics
[Bambu - Last Year lyrics]
Yo feel like the summer back in '95
Shooting pool get in fights
Fuck that hood bullets fly
Do or die
Do a doughnut in the street and smoke a cig
It's like 18 year since and I
Got friends still doing bids, yeah
And we gon' be old we they get out
And they gon' be mad enough to get active
When they see they lola's house
Or where it used to be
I'm used to seeing businesses pop up
Leaving families who lived there all
They lives broke and stuck
Same company offer measly little bucks
To buy the house
Then your grandma's outside on the curb
Sleeping on her couch
It's about them getting you to go to prison
Or to prison maybe get you to a prisoner
Or either send you to a prison
Do you get it, yet?
The system run by prisms 'bout the dollar
The crime ain't really a crime
'long as you work a white collar
It's the gold and the blood
And the diamonds in the rough
Classic West Coast shit
With a militant touch
It feel hotter than last year homie
Boom ping ping
The mother fucking West Coast
It feel hotter than last year homie
Boom ping ping
The mother fucking West Coast
Air condition broker than a mother fucker
King Taco bound with some girls
Whose nails is pretty colors
Also a got knack for throwing
Facts up on the podium
To rally up and stop a war half
As old as both of them
I'm happy Hopper's home
And peace those who went
They got girlfriends calling in the
This song is for the both of them
I got that marijuana chased with
Fiji Water from the store
While I ponder where it's better
On death row or Skidrow
Shit rolls downhill and in The
Flats we catching shit
Like public schools getting sold to
The highest private bid
My pop taught me everything I
Know about a gat son of a gun
Tote a toaster in my Joker Brand pants
Gun control mean two hands
I don't trust them laws
When they written by a bunch of
Mother fuckers with no problems
Locking you away and never
Considering the condition
That put me in that position
Homie, Flatlands living
It feel hotter than last year homie
Boom ping ping
The mother fucking West Coast
It feel hotter than last year homie
Boom ping ping
The mother fucking West Coast
Shooting pool get in fights
Fuck that hood bullets fly
Do or die
Do a doughnut in the street and smoke a cig
It's like 18 year since and I
Got friends still doing bids, yeah
And we gon' be old we they get out
And they gon' be mad enough to get active
When they see they lola's house
Or where it used to be
I'm used to seeing businesses pop up
Leaving families who lived there all
They lives broke and stuck
Same company offer measly little bucks
To buy the house
Then your grandma's outside on the curb
Sleeping on her couch
It's about them getting you to go to prison
Or to prison maybe get you to a prisoner
Or either send you to a prison
Do you get it, yet?
The system run by prisms 'bout the dollar
The crime ain't really a crime
'long as you work a white collar
It's the gold and the blood
And the diamonds in the rough
Classic West Coast shit
With a militant touch
It feel hotter than last year homie
Boom ping ping
The mother fucking West Coast
It feel hotter than last year homie
Boom ping ping
The mother fucking West Coast
Air condition broker than a mother fucker
King Taco bound with some girls
Whose nails is pretty colors
Also a got knack for throwing
Facts up on the podium
To rally up and stop a war half
As old as both of them
I'm happy Hopper's home
And peace those who went
They got girlfriends calling in the
This song is for the both of them
I got that marijuana chased with
Fiji Water from the store
While I ponder where it's better
On death row or Skidrow
Shit rolls downhill and in The
Flats we catching shit
Like public schools getting sold to
The highest private bid
My pop taught me everything I
Know about a gat son of a gun
Tote a toaster in my Joker Brand pants
Gun control mean two hands
I don't trust them laws
When they written by a bunch of
Mother fuckers with no problems
Locking you away and never
Considering the condition
That put me in that position
Homie, Flatlands living
It feel hotter than last year homie
Boom ping ping
The mother fucking West Coast
It feel hotter than last year homie
Boom ping ping
The mother fucking West Coast