Westside Gunn - 1989 (feat. DJ Drama, Stove God Cooks) lyrics

Every other city we go
Every other ghetto
No matter where I go
I see the same folds

Ayo
We can meet at Carbone
Meet me at the Aria
Hundred round Glock on me (Gangsta, gangsta)
Look wrong, I'm poppin' ya (Boom boom boom boom boom
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom!)
Three piece Salvatore
Lookin' like the mafia
Wrist cost twenty bricks, neck like a hockey puck
Hopped out the maybach (Skrrt), then did a walk up (Boom boom boom
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom!)
Every bad bitch in my city, I done fucked 'em (Ahh)
I'm the flyest shooter never seen, nigga fuck ya
Bodybag on top of bodybag, nigga wassup?
(Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot)
Hustler in my veins, left the gang for
Cеntral park legend, cheffin' in Vеrsace aprons (Whip)
Rest in peace, lil bitch, I'm the shit (Ah)
Rest in peace Munch, havin' gecko for lunch
Rest in peace, park a Benz in the street (Skrrt)
Rest in peace Pete, got shooters on the roof (Grr)
Rest in peace Boo, richest nigga in the low
Bricks got hit then stamped on it off the boat (Mmm)
I heard them niggas tellin', my niggas present
Hit his ass with a buckshot (Boom boom boom)
That nigga yellin'
Smilin' on my mugshot (Mmm), two-time felon
Bullets went clean through (Boom boom boom)
Now we stretchin'

One thousand (One thousand!)
One thousand
36 ounces, I turned up in public houses
36 ounces, rich in public houses

I might shoot the Rolls Royce through your block
I might shoot the Maybach through your block (Gangsta, gangsta)
I might have young boy come- fuck it (Brr, baow-baow)

One thousand
One thousand
Smilin' on the fed cameras
Rest in peace Well, we still smilin' at the fed cameras
36 ounces (Woo)
Had my momma calling my phone like
This shit gotta stop one day (Woo)
If ain't no switch on it, that ain't gunplay (Brr, baow-baow)
I might drop a hundred bricks on yo' block (A hundred)
I might have a hundred shooters on yo' block (Haha)
You know me and my niggas really rich, do you not?

One thousand (One thousand)
One thousand!
36 ounces, I turned up in public houses (I turned it up)
36 ounces, bricks in public houses (I turned it up)

I might shoot the Rolls Royce through your block (Keep goin')
I might shoot the Maybach through your block (Real shit)
I might have young boy come- fuck it (Brr, baow-baow)
Say a prayer for me

Gangsta Grizills
And Then You Pray For Me
Lord knows I need it
Demons on my shoulders
Demons in the streets
Demons in my sheets
If any of y'all can stop God body
Trials and tribulations only make me stronger
We built for this
Nigga we built this
We preach it to the streets forever
Legendary