I'm listening to carter iii sessions alot lately, was reminded of cry out/real rap (different names) and just how dope it is.
How is it even possible that this was not ever on an album? Strong contender for one of wayne's best ever songs.
Quotables for days...
Ghetto birds still shittin on us, government still quittin' on us
Lost a few homies and the grief still sittin on us
So we got the names writtin on us, white folks still spittin' on us
And them bitch ass police canines, teeth still grittin' on us
But we smoke, ashes still gettin' on us
this shit is harder than a bench press
But I'ma keep goin, and I swear I got a lump in my throat
But I'ma keep on pumpin a float,
So if I cry dont stop the beat, I feel like my heart just stopped the beat
And fuck a man with a badge, cause he ain't shit to a man on the edge
The five o killed naughty good boy dead
Man you woulda thought they killed corn bread
Shot 'em up face down on the lawn
Not to mention with his handcuffs on
Not to mention they had plain clothes on
And the complaint goes on
But don't nobody do nothin' about it
And all I no 'bout my real pops is that he had money
No bank account, that brown paper bag money
Yea he might hit me off wit a little brag money
But the nigga still wouldn't be a dad for me
But look how I turned out I hope he glad for me
But thats why when I see him I act mad funny
Cause he's a joke to me
Don't message, don't call, don't talk to me
It's just me and my mama how it's supposed to be
Weezy on that deep rap >>>>
How is it even possible that this was not ever on an album? Strong contender for one of wayne's best ever songs.
Quotables for days...
Ghetto birds still shittin on us, government still quittin' on us
Lost a few homies and the grief still sittin on us
So we got the names writtin on us, white folks still spittin' on us
And them bitch ass police canines, teeth still grittin' on us
But we smoke, ashes still gettin' on us
this shit is harder than a bench press
But I'ma keep goin, and I swear I got a lump in my throat
But I'ma keep on pumpin a float,
So if I cry dont stop the beat, I feel like my heart just stopped the beat
And fuck a man with a badge, cause he ain't shit to a man on the edge
The five o killed naughty good boy dead
Man you woulda thought they killed corn bread
Shot 'em up face down on the lawn
Not to mention with his handcuffs on
Not to mention they had plain clothes on
And the complaint goes on
But don't nobody do nothin' about it
And all I no 'bout my real pops is that he had money
No bank account, that brown paper bag money
Yea he might hit me off wit a little brag money
But the nigga still wouldn't be a dad for me
But look how I turned out I hope he glad for me
But thats why when I see him I act mad funny
Cause he's a joke to me
Don't message, don't call, don't talk to me
It's just me and my mama how it's supposed to be
Weezy on that deep rap >>>>
Comment