C-Murder Mama How You Figure текст песни, слова песни Mama How You Figure C-Murder
C-Murder - Mama How You Figure
Come check out that gutta music
Rough, Rugged, Raw Uncut
Where you at Los? (It's Murda)
Chorus 2x
Mama how you figure
I'm a nigga destined for pain
Ms. Peaches(You Ain't never gonna change)
Verse 1:
Up early in the mornin'
Runnin' out the crack house
The Grimm Reaper, tried to blow my back out
(You feel me)
Is there a Heaven for a Thug with Thug ways
I'm searchin' for some better days
Pappa was a Rollin' Stone, Pappa wasn't home
Me, moms and the kids stuck at home
I said fuck that, I'mma get paid
I'mma get me a ticket to the streets
And work my way to a Key
Cause I'ma HUSTLA, JACK OF THE JACKA'S
Make moves with Thugs
Make moves where niggas show me love
I'm from NEW ORLEANS, where we be ballin'
Listen to the lyrics boy
THE STREETS BE CALLIN'
Some on the set tryin' to set me up and wet me up
But these days I be's like I don't give a fuck
We can all get buck, that's my mentallity
I'll bring you back to reality (Hey)
Keep it on the low-low
Pass me the dow-dow
Disrespect boy, that's a no-no
I see through you
You use to be TRU to
TRU to you but never TRU to TRU
Keep it real, guard yo grill
I do em' like Mike Vick
I'm on some Bout It, Bout It shit
I got a rowdy, rowdy clique
I'm stuck in the game, deep in the game
Fuck Fame, I Aint Never Gone Change.
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