Starlito, Don Trip - 5th Song lyrics
[Starlito, Don Trip - 5th Song lyrics]
I know a lot of people might
Not be from where we from
The following may not be my true
Storybut it’s still a true story
Damn shawty sell everything in the house
Flatscreens, xbox, shit even pots and pans
Toaster oven, microwave, dvd
Children clothes
Even food stamps, just to get a gram
Even pawn her baby bank, powerwheel, enfamil
Shit, she’ll sell anything she can
Now my kid get to eat
But her kids in the street
Well I sell D so I don’t give a damn
Life sucks, I don’t give a fuck
She’ll get high no matter what I
Might as well be the man
Might as well take the dope and
Hit the trap with a plan
Had to get my ass in and provide for my fam
It’s a cold cruel world
That’s somebody’ little girl
Momma, grandmomma, sister, cousin, aunt
Prolly even mine, how I do this to my kin?
Ever since they let the cocaine
In we been damned
They been at it since the 70’s
I was born in 85’
Know you want to blame me but you can’t
Momma wasn’t home, daddy up and van
Big brother got killed on the
Same block I stand
Up and sold dope, all my cousins got slammed
Evidently this is who I am
I was raised off the soul food
Now I gotta get it how I can
With the chickens and the yams
Cocaine hitters broken car antennas
Product of broken homes
Break in homes erry muhfuckin day
Broke his momma heart
Saw him in a box, heart stopped
Cause he was broke and just
Wanted to get payed
Take mine, okay, don’t play 50 shots, AK
47 equals First 48
This mind?, this grind, this
Nine, on my waist, round my way
Young niggas wear they crimes on they face
And they robbin all times of the day not me
(pow, pow, pow, pow, pow, pow)
That’s all I'm gonna say
If they ever try to set me up
I'm shootin that bitch first
Kill these niggas with kindness and
Blew kisses at the hearse
In a pew sittin at the church
Wit a fuckin smirk
Heart cold, im a soldier though
Can you match this big bag of purp
If it's true you are what you smoke
Then that make me a OG
So a bunch of regula ass niggas, 100 a O-Z
You know me its Lito
Not be from where we from
The following may not be my true
Storybut it’s still a true story
Damn shawty sell everything in the house
Flatscreens, xbox, shit even pots and pans
Toaster oven, microwave, dvd
Children clothes
Even food stamps, just to get a gram
Even pawn her baby bank, powerwheel, enfamil
Shit, she’ll sell anything she can
Now my kid get to eat
But her kids in the street
Well I sell D so I don’t give a damn
Life sucks, I don’t give a fuck
She’ll get high no matter what I
Might as well be the man
Might as well take the dope and
Hit the trap with a plan
Had to get my ass in and provide for my fam
It’s a cold cruel world
That’s somebody’ little girl
Momma, grandmomma, sister, cousin, aunt
Prolly even mine, how I do this to my kin?
Ever since they let the cocaine
In we been damned
They been at it since the 70’s
I was born in 85’
Know you want to blame me but you can’t
Momma wasn’t home, daddy up and van
Big brother got killed on the
Same block I stand
Up and sold dope, all my cousins got slammed
Evidently this is who I am
I was raised off the soul food
Now I gotta get it how I can
With the chickens and the yams
Cocaine hitters broken car antennas
Product of broken homes
Break in homes erry muhfuckin day
Broke his momma heart
Saw him in a box, heart stopped
Cause he was broke and just
Wanted to get payed
Take mine, okay, don’t play 50 shots, AK
47 equals First 48
This mind?, this grind, this
Nine, on my waist, round my way
Young niggas wear they crimes on they face
And they robbin all times of the day not me
(pow, pow, pow, pow, pow, pow)
That’s all I'm gonna say
If they ever try to set me up
I'm shootin that bitch first
Kill these niggas with kindness and
Blew kisses at the hearse
In a pew sittin at the church
Wit a fuckin smirk
Heart cold, im a soldier though
Can you match this big bag of purp
If it's true you are what you smoke
Then that make me a OG
So a bunch of regula ass niggas, 100 a O-Z
You know me its Lito