Hit-Boy - Funeral Season lyrics

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Hit-Boy - Funeral Season lyrics

[Intro] Statik, wuddup? Ghost Did lot [Verse 1: Styles P] Stone cold shooter, let the heater blow Gun that a just named Twitter, follow the leader though Up in the hood, homie askin I got my nina on Adjusted his eyes on some n***as that he needed gone It's like that regular, life ain't normal If you dyin' to shine then ice ain't for you If the sky fall then the sky can't warn you When your head crack the dice don't warn you Lightin up weed, pour that sour In the streets in the mix like Kool Aid powder Ride on them n***as, show em you ain't coward Yea you got family but you ain't ours Get popped up, oxed up, or boxed up Think it's a joke then b**h n***a then hop up Cuz I'm Ghost and I'm still OG This time I'm with Statik and the Trill OG, wuddup? [Hook] Livin rich or livin poor Funerals stay on schedule This not season, can't stop the heathen Funerals stay on schedule All the G's is getting money and relaxin But funerals stay on schedule And I don't even care about the charges if they ain't federal Funerals stay on schedule [Verse 2: Bun B] I walk the cold streets of the city with big heaters Ready for cats, there's no one up, they dick beaters Yea it's Big B, the trill OG walkin So keep yo mouth shut when the OG talkin If I want your opinion then n***a I'll beat it out of you I'm bred for the gutters b**h, I doin' what I gotta do And that's got a lot to do with where I was raised Original land of the trill where they roamin with K's On the ground with the gauge, and they lurkin with ninas Doing dirt to get paid, committing more than misdemeanors What's the while the sh** you see a n***a do in his life Is the average sh** That's goin on here every night You can go to PA, til they beam all the yonkers The young n***as wildin in the streets, going bonkers Best thing I could do right now is pray for you I pa** pinero the pistol n***a to lay on you, hold up [Hook] [Verse 3: Hit-Boy] For every n***a that say he proud of me, it's a n***a that's out for me Feelin like Martin Luther, I'm standin out on the balcony n***as used to be close but I cut em off, call em amputees n***as was in the van with me, only n***as advance with me b**hes ain't wanna f**, now they on they knees for a chance with me If you knew what that ba** meant this is my f**in rhapsody Feel like I'm on Rap City, k**in it with my faculty High up off the ground, I swear I'm defying gravity An IE youngin but when I grow up I'mma buy me something I always knew it like the psyche bluffin Miss Cleo of the hustle, I swear I could see the future We got bigger guns than dreams, little n***as'll shoot ya For no reason other than colors, he looked up to his brother Now we layin beside him, too many tears for a mother Too many story of hunger but f** ya infomercial I be out here in the streets tryna teach my n***as to come up, word [Hook]

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