815 Grant Street
This ain't a song for club moves or parties
I'm on fire like Johnny Blaze on a Harley
Grant sent me another beat imma body
Got Hennessy next to me chilling but I ain't Cardi (Cardi)
Yea, this is my year
Rapping hella slow so you can hear me clear
I miss my nigga Jonathan we haven't spoke in years
Sad that our fucked up relationship bring my mom tears
Tell him its all love here
Tryna make a way to be a pioneer
Dad used to save change to buy a cold beer
Now we eating buttered Lobster tail on top of Stratospheres (Stratospheres)
It's time to make it out the hood right
Niggas thought I was done after "One Time"
But now I gotta prove em wrong a few more times
Have your girl sing along to some good rhymes
But imma play it cool
I got more important shit to battle through
I'm tryna move my mom out the hood, something new
Move her to a place with a better view (Better view)
And now I graduate in May
I remember freshman year like it yesterday
In the valley yelling "ball games" with bald fades
Back when life was simple man God bless the old days
Never thought I'd be looking down at your grave
Man there's so much shit that I wanna say
You was workin on The Strip, volunteering tryna get paid
When a crazy man went rogue inside of Mandalay Bay
I remember when I got the call
Had 20 sum messages from Jay & Paul
We used love to hit the Y, just to play some ball
Find cute shorties to kick it with by the meadows mall
Will they ever call your black life beautiful
Will they ever call your homicide a sacrifice
A Las Vegas love story to be jealous of
I'm just sad you had to be the one to pay the price
A young king with nothing shy of the big dreams
Always looking out for me since we was thirteen
I was a dumb hot head that used to start scenes
But when it was time for the fighting you was on my team
Yeah we used to, Knuckle up
I'm tired of niggas hating, man I've had enough
We used to sneak on the bus, its time to double up
Now we do the dash on the freeway, its time to buckle up
Just a West Coast boy that rose from concrete
I'm putting for on my city its time we all eat
I'm headed to the top, can't nobody stop me
Grateful for the memories down 815 Grant Street
All the lessons learned from the city that raised me
815 Grant Street
All the lessons learned from the city that raised me
Cease
I'm on fire like Johnny Blaze on a Harley
Grant sent me another beat imma body
Got Hennessy next to me chilling but I ain't Cardi (Cardi)
Yea, this is my year
Rapping hella slow so you can hear me clear
I miss my nigga Jonathan we haven't spoke in years
Sad that our fucked up relationship bring my mom tears
Tell him its all love here
Tryna make a way to be a pioneer
Dad used to save change to buy a cold beer
Now we eating buttered Lobster tail on top of Stratospheres (Stratospheres)
It's time to make it out the hood right
Niggas thought I was done after "One Time"
But now I gotta prove em wrong a few more times
Have your girl sing along to some good rhymes
But imma play it cool
I got more important shit to battle through
I'm tryna move my mom out the hood, something new
Move her to a place with a better view (Better view)
And now I graduate in May
I remember freshman year like it yesterday
In the valley yelling "ball games" with bald fades
Back when life was simple man God bless the old days
Never thought I'd be looking down at your grave
Man there's so much shit that I wanna say
You was workin on The Strip, volunteering tryna get paid
When a crazy man went rogue inside of Mandalay Bay
I remember when I got the call
Had 20 sum messages from Jay & Paul
We used love to hit the Y, just to play some ball
Find cute shorties to kick it with by the meadows mall
Will they ever call your black life beautiful
Will they ever call your homicide a sacrifice
A Las Vegas love story to be jealous of
I'm just sad you had to be the one to pay the price
A young king with nothing shy of the big dreams
Always looking out for me since we was thirteen
I was a dumb hot head that used to start scenes
But when it was time for the fighting you was on my team
Yeah we used to, Knuckle up
I'm tired of niggas hating, man I've had enough
We used to sneak on the bus, its time to double up
Now we do the dash on the freeway, its time to buckle up
Just a West Coast boy that rose from concrete
I'm putting for on my city its time we all eat
I'm headed to the top, can't nobody stop me
Grateful for the memories down 815 Grant Street
All the lessons learned from the city that raised me
815 Grant Street
All the lessons learned from the city that raised me
Cease
Credits
Writer(s): Lazaro Cesar
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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