Kane & Able - Stress lyrics

Published

0 116 0

Kane & Able - Stress lyrics

[Talking] Hey n***a This is our last time bonita After this, we out I'm tellin you We die together An eye for an eye (In Italian) A tooth for a tooth (In Italian) An eye for an eye A tooth for a tooth All my n***as Feel me [Verse 1] I can't rest So much stress to live illegal My uncle on d**h row Waiting to get the needle Holla if you hear me, people This dope game is evil A bloody river runnin through the ghetto That new born baby In the dumpster She been dead for a week While the dope fiend momma Gettin high on the street Gettin beat by police Still prayin for peace n***as playin for keeps Yellow tape and white sheets And time is going by so slowy I plead insanity My family my homies Sick of swallowing rocks To avoid them cops on the block Sick of judges, lawyers, and cell blocks This ghetto got me thinkin about d**h When will it stop Either you punch the clock Or you open up shop Chorus Everyday I'm livin with stress So I smoke the cess (I don't wanna die in the ghetto) To the get the pain of my chest Everyday I'm livin with stress So I smoke the cess (Please don't let me die in the ghetto) To the get the pain of my chest Everyday I'm livin with stress So I smoke the cess (I don't wanna die in the ghetto) To the get the pain of my chest Everyday I'm livin with stress So I smoke the cess (Please don't let me die in the ghetto) To the get the pain of my chest [Verse 2] Gettin murdered by the hands of a buster Over respect Last night my little homie cought a bullet in the neck Look in his eyes He kinda looked surprised in his last breath But life goes on for n***as Throwin up they set In terror In the ghetto when this sh** ain't stoppin n***as run in your crib And make references to why your momma Washin fiends Never with a fly Chasin a high And gettin AIDS from a b**h Ain't no way to die And everyday I'm seeing signs Of the end of the world My n***a Bobby k**ed himself and his lady In front of his baby girl Feds, watch a n***a Tryin to make the bus But n***as stay strapped And gats, we trust (C'mon) Chorus [Verse 3] Bill Clinton in the White House f**ing hoes Innocent kids gettin shot on my block Casket closed Hear the n***as in the cell blocks Screaming for freedom Tryin to cop a cigarette for stress Cause they need them Remember JJ got shot In a high speed chase Busted in the back Through the license plate My reality is fatality I verbalize pain before I be another casualty Infared beam on the glock Just aim and pop You see me for a split second And your dead and got I try to tell these young kids Go to school They wanna smoke weed, gang bang, and act a fool They don't hear me though [Talking] Yeah man It's sad you know We ain't got no jump shot Can't play football We ain't got no money for college But I see these n***as on the block Rolling with their fancy cars Fancy gold Fancy hoes n***a, I'ma get it how I live You know I'ma y'all young n***as some advice Don't get greedy n***a Get what you came for To many n***as dying Trying to prove something to another n***a Be true to yourself True to what you know n***a Stay true to the gizzame

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