Bushwick Bill - Times is Hard lyrics

Published

0 171 0

Bushwick Bill - Times is Hard lyrics

[ Verse 1 ] Times that is hard as a 21 years Ain't got a dime and ain't seen a chick in a year I'm catching drama from my mama on down It's rough as f**, but homie, I'm staying down Now I have done everything from Everclear to sherman sticks I sold dope around town I'd stomp n***as down Rolling through my hood like a superstar Turning corner after corner in my brand new cars These hoes used to call me baller But that was 'fore I lost my grip, now they barely even call a Player cause they know I'm broke No Rolex and no Benz, just spokes (sh**) Now that I'm back to life, and that I'm back to reality Got one life which ain't sh** without a salary I'm spitting game so y'all can feel me Man, I'mma make it out the ghetto if it k**s me And Lil' Jay will make it real Y'all know the deal [ Verse 2 ] Now if it wasn't for moms I wouldn't have no world You stood tall through it all, so you go, girl I know things ain't all they used to be I had to slow my roll, see, trouble's getting used to me I gots to make you a proud mother No more crack slanging, I gots to be a proud brother And take control of my destiny I can't let these streets get the best of me It's kinda rough starting over but it's worth the pain Instead of getting stuck with the same ol' same Stretched like a rubberband, busting flicks In the pen for life with some off-brand tricks Ain't nobody knowin about the pain you feel I'mma change my life, mama, that's on the real I pray to God He make you feel me Man, I'mma make it out the ghetto if it k** me And mama, that's real [ Verse 3 ] No more playing mack daddy for you skeezers I got one lover, I love her, so I'mma please her And leave you tramps alone Since I'm getting sh** straight, I'm starting at home Now which one of y'all was down and didn't clown when I was sleeping on the flo' My real girl, that's who, that's why I love her so Got two sons and no daughters I'm barely feeding both of my kids but I still gots to be a father That I used to want pops to be This ain't no dis to ya, pops, cause you're still my g I'm on a long road to nowhere if I don't change Life with no crime on my mind feels strange Working like a motherf**er, slick like a Benz seat Backing off my old hustle, trying to make these ends meet I pray to God he make you feel me Man, I'mma make it out the ghetto if it k**s me And n***as, that's real

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.