West Coast Connection Forum
Elements => Tha Studio => Topic started by: ZILLA THA GOODFELLA on March 04, 2006, 11:21:17 AM
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broken ribs, ambulance, we drunk at emergency
the whole room feels the filth, along with the urgency
how he feel? it don't matter, we thinkin of bustin back
I tell my soldiers to chill, but patience is what we lack
mafia moves is what we call it, but that ain't the focus
lookin like some pety thugs, well thats how we show it
so then it becomes a cycle, i sold a .32 to a psycho
but he couldn't shoot, not your ordinary michael
but they knew who did what, so they back here
posted on our curb, on our turf, they lack fear
this ain't gangsta shit boy, this is real life
call it what you want, I call it a never-ending strife
loco came out, but them warrants made him run
11 cases within us, our generation won't be outdone
on the ave. shakin everything off, let's go get some 40s
my nig got a trailer behind enemy lines, invite all the homies
it feels like 8th grade, don't it? nothin to worry about
I'm drinkin for the vacant, never pourin it out
there's not too many cats I know from way back
what took them out? the drugs and the pay back
it's a shame how the game been treating us
I call myself a survivor, live on till I feel the thus
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This is a lot better than the other one you posted, but it fell apart in the end...Not bad, nonetheless.
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That was dope man, it was on a street level and introspective, kind of like 2pac