dirty acres
cunninlynguists
it's sad to see us living like that till pine laid up
not straight up about death or missteps
the other day my nigga was stabbed to death
i laughed with step bout holy scripture
holdin blunts bigger than his casket
growed amongst grass un-kept
singin with sam cooke about a change comin as we keep pourin
liquor out for those that passed
it's killin our livers because we dying so fast
you make music or you detail cars
you sell clothes or you live on charge
i barely got enough bread to give a cell phone bars
fuck puttin bars on paper
there's bars on the face of
spark the garcia vegas and ride country
i'll be damned if they stealing my pride from me
i ain't destined to die hungry
putting up smoke for help
peace pipe under the street lights
greenery coats the scenery
right away from them rollers posted up at the corner
schemin to meet they quota off of niggas with soda
they love to get 'em together like lime and corona
like my niggas still reppin they hood
don't own a brick up in that bitch but swangin they wood
going to bat for that? shit
make sense of it with dollars only if i could
to trade children and a beautiful wife for a crack pipe
or missin in a system of hustlin all night
shit must have been aight in some point of our sight
till in a fashion we rationed off a portion of life
coastin into a future that we strive to make bright
coastin into a future that we strive to make bright