Trae Tha Truth, CyHi - Round Da Corner lyrics
[Trae Tha Truth, CyHi - Round Da Corner lyrics]
Corner, ‘round the corner, ‘round the corner
We did it all around the
Corner, ‘round the corner, ‘round the corner
That’s where I sold my first sack
Where mama’s get they purse snatched and
Niggas get they dirt naps
They merk rats, church slacks, hearse 'Lacs
You either jack or serve packs
Standin’ on this curb, black
But I was just a sellin’ herb cat
Drove some work to Texas
Dropped it off and caught the bird back
That’s why my nerves bad –
‘cause I’ve been shot at
Bitch, I’m like a pan ‘cause I’m
Always where the pot at never sold no yams
But I know some niggas that buy that
Like a marine through Decatur
Bet some paper he’ll fly back to Iraq
I’ll see a stack off a pound, that’s a iRack
I hope you niggas got that
I’m from Atlanta, boy, everybody got gats
Run up in your trap and
Make everybody lie flat
The same place you supply at
Be the same place you die at
A lot of my homies never made
It to where I’m at, ‘cause
Some niggas sold weed, some niggas sold hard
Some of my folks robbed and we stole cars
We did it all around the
Corner, ‘round the corner, ‘round the corner
We did it all around the
Corner, ‘round the corner, ‘round the corner
I hit my first blunt, I fucked my first broad
This is where I hit my first
Lick and caught my first charge
We did it all around the
Corner, ‘round the corner, ‘round the corner
We did it all around the
Corner, ‘round the corner, ‘round the corner
Same place I got my first stripes at
Murderville, get your whole life jacked
Teach you hot to turn money to a white pack
Hit the penitentiary and come right back
Fuck up and get your whole dope knocked off
Same block fat, head got chopped off
Same niggas that you played with back then
Will fill you up with the
Bullets from a sawed-off
Se me, I ain’t fuck with them niggas
I learned from my brother that
Got hit with life around the same time that
My niggas got murdered
The same week I went to a funeral twice
I caught Hell in the worst of ways
I’m in the game makin’ perfect plays
The block flood, I’ll surf for days
Drought time, it was thirst for days
I’m in the hood in my first pair of Jordan’s
Flyer than a plane
You could tell if I was boardin’
Bitches watchin’ a nigga like
Somethin’ they recorded
Bricks all in the garage like I was hoardin’
It was murder like 48 Hours
Truth got filleted like 48 salmons
They told me "ain’t nothin’ like
A nigga who’s broke" so I’m tryna get to the
Money to stack like towers
We was supposed to be playin’ football
How’d I end up with all
The niggas that cook raw?
‘Cause when the hood call
You can’t press ignore
Now you got your pistol stashed
In your dresser drawer
Prepare for war, shorty, I was never poor
But my mama and my daddy couldn’t
Afford a pair of Jordans
So I went around the corner
Got an ounce of marijuana
Had Lithonia in the chokehold
Had Stone Mountain in a coma
And we got them pounds if you want ‘em
Shop with me, my green is stronger
Back when I had that green Daytona
Or that blue Monte Carlo
Had my foot on the throttle
Just got a 223 and bought like 200 hollows
Met some dudes from Chicago, Larry Hoover
They follow they motto is "when you move it
Make sure you lookin’ for potholes"
Not the cheese and the nachos
I'm used to that avocado
Felt like a goose the way
I was ducking the 5-0