D. Lynch - The Hill lyrics

Little bugsy was a another average
Kid from the block
Raised by his mom, he was never given a lot
But something came along
Finally give him a shot
But he threw it in the trash
Just to peddle some rock
Always cocking back at the pen of a drop
King of the streets son, '
He'd never get caught
Had a bright future playing them sports
Said fuck the draft homie
Now he's killing for sport
Now hes packing heat
Smoking L's on the porch
Runs three blocks, including the court
Felt hard as hell when they
Gave him the Glock said to hit up the block
Couldn't wait till it get shot
They got a homie who snitched
Now they ready to move
Guess now you really got, something to prove
Getting through was never easy to do
Always start shit growing up with you

Bet you never knew what the guns would do
You know you got a lot of growing up to do
Getting through was never easy to do
Always starting shit growing up with you

You know little bugs got something to prove
Better show respect in front of his crew
Shit goes down then it's him or you
Shit was always war growing up with you

They pulled up about 3 in the mornin
Perfect time to catch a body permanent snorin
This is it now your old life was boring
Anything for respect, money ain't important
They told him yo once you get inside
Put two in his head leave no one alive
Cock it little homie
Let's see what you can do
Pull this shit off and you've got
A spot in the crew
Playing it off, like he's did it before
Bug ran into the house and
He kicked in the door
Started shooting rounds
Bodies hitting the floor
Shot a pregnant woman
To him he's just smoking a whore
Provoking for more
Keep screaming, choking her more
The old image of him now
Has been shattered and torn
People like you should've never been born
Life never given dog so we weep and we mourn

Bet you never knew what the guns would do
You know you got a lot of growing up to do
Getting through was never easy to do
Always starting shit growing up with you

You know little bugs got something to prove
Better show respect in front of his crew
Shit goes down then it's him or you
Shit was always war growing up with you

Wipe my eyes, to rub away the sleep
As the cold floor touches the
Bottom of my feet
I pray everyday I got up out of the streets
About to be a father but I still fear defeat
Everywhere I walk, gotta look behind my back
Cause my old crew went and
Labeled me as a rat
And they keep on threatening
My little brother zack
Even got his homie bugs
Fighting all they scraps
How could I come so far
Yet be so close to violence
Feel the headlights creeping
Piercing my eyelids
Series of bangs, proceeded by silence
Downstairs lays my pregnant wife all lifeless
She got two rounds that were
Meant for my head
There's someone in the house
And I swear this dudes dead
I shot a round in his chest
And watched as he bled
When I realized it was bugs
My eyes filled with dread (Gunshot)