Lost Memories
Yeah, I know it's hard, but hold your head
You been through worst, you thoroughbred
You got homies doing life, and some dead
You gotta live for the ones still breathing
Whoa, I been making money while I'm sleepin
If it hit in the morning it's gon' double by the evening
Whoa, Home team winning this the season
We came to beat the odds, we ain't come to break even
Running plays right now I'm second and twelve
The mirror say I'm a winner and I'm reflecting it well
God knows I'm a sinner, I try my best to do well
In a world where you get praised when your integrity fails
Young boys with F and N's don't even know how to spell
Go to prison and get extorted cause they ain't got them type of weapons in jail
But that's the life and they rep'n it well
What do you tell'em when they don't believe in heaven or hell
1942 Don Julio
Listening to Coolio, I really hope there is a paradise for Gangstas
Cause this life giving us hell
Some of us trying to get rich, most of us trying to make bail
In the chow hall, giving your food away, cause you got court today
Just for the judge to send you right back to your cell
Then you realize why niggas be collecting sack lunches
Trading them for commissary cause they ain't got nothing
That's prison life tho
For the sake of those who can't relate, I'll switch the subject
To something a little more interesting like sliding on the ops
Pull up on'em bang bang bang, all they hear is pops
But wait, before you Rico me these lyrics is props
No one was harmed in the making of this song
Speaking of song, this what you been waiting on
You know it's hot when I drop, you gotta pick it up with prongs
Sometimes I think it's more love in the slums
The problems that come with bread'll make you settle for the crumbs
Couldn't even be mad if I got a lump sum
And everybody had they hands out like I was reading palms
What else can I expect when they got us living like scums
At the bottom of the bottom slaving for low income
Knees planted on the floor
Prayer hands pointed to the ceiling trying to make peace with the Lord
I know it's hard, but hold your head
You been through worst, you thoroughbred
You got homies doing life, and some dead
You gotta live for the ones still breathing
Whoa, I been making money while I'm sleepin
If it hit in the morning it's gon' double by the evening
Whoa, Home team winning this the season
We came to beat the odds, we ain't come to break even
You been through worst, you thoroughbred
You got homies doing life, and some dead
You gotta live for the ones still breathing
Whoa, I been making money while I'm sleepin
If it hit in the morning it's gon' double by the evening
Whoa, Home team winning this the season
We came to beat the odds, we ain't come to break even
Running plays right now I'm second and twelve
The mirror say I'm a winner and I'm reflecting it well
God knows I'm a sinner, I try my best to do well
In a world where you get praised when your integrity fails
Young boys with F and N's don't even know how to spell
Go to prison and get extorted cause they ain't got them type of weapons in jail
But that's the life and they rep'n it well
What do you tell'em when they don't believe in heaven or hell
1942 Don Julio
Listening to Coolio, I really hope there is a paradise for Gangstas
Cause this life giving us hell
Some of us trying to get rich, most of us trying to make bail
In the chow hall, giving your food away, cause you got court today
Just for the judge to send you right back to your cell
Then you realize why niggas be collecting sack lunches
Trading them for commissary cause they ain't got nothing
That's prison life tho
For the sake of those who can't relate, I'll switch the subject
To something a little more interesting like sliding on the ops
Pull up on'em bang bang bang, all they hear is pops
But wait, before you Rico me these lyrics is props
No one was harmed in the making of this song
Speaking of song, this what you been waiting on
You know it's hot when I drop, you gotta pick it up with prongs
Sometimes I think it's more love in the slums
The problems that come with bread'll make you settle for the crumbs
Couldn't even be mad if I got a lump sum
And everybody had they hands out like I was reading palms
What else can I expect when they got us living like scums
At the bottom of the bottom slaving for low income
Knees planted on the floor
Prayer hands pointed to the ceiling trying to make peace with the Lord
I know it's hard, but hold your head
You been through worst, you thoroughbred
You got homies doing life, and some dead
You gotta live for the ones still breathing
Whoa, I been making money while I'm sleepin
If it hit in the morning it's gon' double by the evening
Whoa, Home team winning this the season
We came to beat the odds, we ain't come to break even
Credits
Writer(s): Kevin Ware Jr
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.