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I always knew life could be super shortEver since they busted out the super sportBrevity, levity, bitter I could never beYoung for a nigga born in the late seventiesHeavenly, my wife cause she loves me in spiteOf all the crazy shit I be saying when we fightShout a kite to my nigga locked up, now Reece homeMaking music for the kids, bitch we grownPut your phone down, look me in the eyeOr you can talk that shit to another guyI swear to God I would kick you in the button flyAnd jump up and down on your skull 'til you fucking dieY'all probably want to dance so ignore meThat club life ain't ever been for meYou basic bitches just bore meIf I got to buy you a drink you can't afford meGun shots on a good dayNo ski masks, that's the hood wayLittle kids wishing that they could playLooking for a hook or something Jay-Z would sayI got two shots left in my twenty-two two stepTwo shots left in my twenty-two two stepDeuce-deuce in my tennis shoeLetras de cancionesHood nigga brought a burner to the interviewMight catch a beef on the bus homeTell them gang-bang bullies get the fuck goneIn my zone with a brand new playlistWalked right past my ex, didn't say shitThen I changed my mind like, "Ay bitch!""Tell your new boyfriend he can't fake this!"Spent my last check on some new kicksThe rest at the movies on my new chickI got fired on some bullshitSnitch, fuck-boy that I never should've fooled withAnd I ain't ever wrote a résuméBut I had my cousin make me one yesterdayI need more hours and some better payBack when I was hustling that was something I would never sayGun shots on a good dayNo ski masks, that's the hood wayLittle kids wishing that they could playLooking for a hook or something Jay-Z would sayI got two shots left in my twenty-two two stepTwo shots left in my twenty-two two stepTen toes down nineteen seventy-nineSouthern California dummy repping heavy with mineThese motherfucking actors are not to a factorHilary Spunner is a cold black bastardNo master, no father, I raise me crazyA nigga clean it up, when I had a couple babiesWell maybe, just maybe, you can oh thank meFresh out the county feeling crazyNo, eight months feeling turnt, don't pay meI used to be a mess my niggaOnly thing could kill me was stress my niggaHad to give that shit a rest my niggaI just did a couple years, none left my niggaI can't do another stretch my niggaSo it's either shut it down, or it's death my niggaGun shots on a good dayNo ski masks, that's the hood wayLittle kids wishing that they could playLooking for a hook or something Jay-Z would sayI got two shots left in my twenty-two two stepTwo shots left in my twenty-two two step From Letras Mania