Freddie Gibbs - Friends lyrics

(Intro – Freddie Gibbs) Yeah, sup Got a little sum One..hunnit withcha know what I mean? Yeah (Verse 1 – Freddie Gibbs) Sometimes I admit you get on my f**king nerves Sometimes I be through with you, ni**a to the curb Prolly got drunk and started some s**t you don’t deserve Took my frustrations out on you and put em into words Yeah you know how ni**as get, popping silly s**t Twelve grade, drinking that blue beast, we was getting bent I look around and wonder where all my real ni**as went Victim of violence, moment of silence, let me reminisce Damn, my cognac trickles to the pavement It’s f**ked up his family making funeral arrangements Told me when he die…don’t cry just have a celebration Drive his casket through the ghetto cause the streets raised him, paid him Always making sure your ni**as ain’t s**as disrespect us and it’s nothing we gon demonstrate Sipping Henny, tryna get the strength to step up in ya way Father why you let these pu**y ni**as take my motherf**king friend? (Chorus – BJ The Chicago Kid) Friends Tell me how many of us have them? Friends Someone that’s always riding till the end No hating, or money, or bi**hes ever coming between us I’m talking bout friends Most of us don’t really have them (Verse 2 – G-Wiz) Come follow me down road stroll Fifteen years old, all we wanted was triple-gold D’s on the fleetwood Floss skates be good He k**ed the highs and lows, ni**a done been through some cold sh** Like when the doors got kicked and my…got sick I was there for ya homie Brother from another, damn near my kin Running em streets and licking shots off of the corners, they been Living life like we was outlaws Plus, we told them youngsters not to be like us When they grown, now ya gone I take a..and still pa** your way Outcha own, my own castaway Familiar glimpse of the past when I see my brother through his lookout face We tryna hold on to yesterday When I say my prayer, man I pray Lord forgive us for these D’s Have mercy, I done made thirty And I’m still dirty, and I’m still working AKA second in servant Maintaining until they call for all the curtains on me and all my (Chorus – BJ The Chicago Kid) Friends Tell me how many of us have them? Friends Someone that’s always riding till the end No hating, or money, or bi**hes ever coming between us I’m talking bout friends Most of us don’t really have them