People Under the Scaffold

Uh yea live from the funky five boroughs nigga
Litty litty litty litty litty
Still here niggas can't get rid of me you heard
Uh buck buck flee
Niggas be lit 'til they lit not lit you heard

Turn your candle off nigga litty boyz 'til the death of me you heard
Rated fly nigga flee
Uh Free Prince

Uh if you have not done what I've done you cannot come where I'm from
Niggas don't know I done had guns to my lungs nobody here seen me run
This ain't for show I fell in love with the slums thuggin' ain't easy it's fun
Pluggin your hoe I make her scream 'til she cum and you probably think she the one whoa whoa
Robbin' and stealin their ones 30's and clippers and drums blickas will blow
This ain't a song to be sung this is a block to be spun front it's a go

We gon' go evil and dumb when it comes to the love of the funds it's all for the dough

Fuck a parole niggas is home and we hungry for more whoa

Harlem world nigga tripple up like Mase back in that Maybach
But no Bible on me I'm blicky'd up like take that to your face tats I uh
I ain't got time for no feelings only got time for the glow
From Pelham to Freeman to Dyckman and Seamen to Washington Heights don't got none for these hoes
Make you milly rock when that semi cock so quiet you could hear a fuckin' penny drop
You gon' need more wishes than Timmy got to get them niggas off your ass on any block it go boom
Over your head Boom second one all in your leg Boom Boom four of them travel your chest
All that mileage that boy must be dead huh
Demons on Lex be perk'd up erk'd up and worked up
So come up under that scaffold get merk'd up I done seen a couple niggas live through worst cuts
So don't cry few of us died I know that we all don't go to the sky
These are our lives tell you no lie and if I go next then make sure you gon' ride
Cause we homegrown gangbangers twistin' fingers niggas hate us cause they ain't us
And we all know they just entertainers really anus wishin' they was famous it's good

That's just the hood I just be wishin' a fuck nigga would

And I'm hittin' his bitch with that mornin' that afternoon evening and night time wood spreach

If you have not done what I've done you cannot come where I'm from
Niggas don't know I done had guns to my lungs nobody here seen me run
This ain't for show I fell in love with the slums thuggin' ain't easy it's fun
Pluggin your hoe I make her scream 'til she cum and you probably think she the one whoa whoa
Robbin' and stealin their ones 30's and clippers and drums blickas will blow

This ain't a song to be sung this is a block to be spun front it's a go
We gon' go evil and dumb when it comes to the love of the funds it's all for the dough
Fuck a parole niggas is home and we hungry for more whoa

I was upstate did 3 came home now I'm back with a bigger dream
No mail no visits no chicken now they askin' what a nigga need
Fake friends fall back scrilla good held it down fuck a team
Still rollin' crates on blue rag cig homie fuck you mean
Pardon me but I ain't for the cap
Respect the real ain't no love for rats
Don't you hit my jack cause I ain't trynna chill If you trynna build I could fuck with that
And if it's static I'ma let them have it won't go back and forth ain't no tit for tat
Bet I'm out for chicken gotta go and get it hunger in my lyrics go and tell them that

South Bronx I was born and raised catch me uptown where it's litty at
And I don't beef over voice notes I could facetime you where I'm really at

Told my nigga Spreach I'm a beast I got kids to raise so I gotta eat
Find me in the lab where I'm killin' beats and I'm well respected when I'm in the streets Scrilla

Uh if you have not done what I've done you cannot come where I'm from
Niggas don't know I done had guns to my lungs nobody here seen me run
This ain't for show I fell in love with the slums thuggin' ain't easy it's fun
Pluggin your hoe I make her scream 'til she cum and you probably think she the one whoa whoa
Robbin' and stealin their ones 30's and clippers and drums blickas will blow
This ain't a song to be sung this is a block to be spun front it's a go
We gon' go evil and dumb when it comes to the love of the funds it's all for the dough
Fuck a parole niggas is home and we hungry for more



Credits
Writer(s): Jacob Hernandez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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