Print

(feat. Mr. Serv-On) [Spade] I'm a soldier tryin to make it on these streets [Chorus] [Dolliolie] I'm tryin to make it [Spade] I'm a soldier tryin to make it on these streets [x4] [Mr. Serv-On] It seems like I've been tryin to make it out for years Niggas always asking me to spell something well today I'ma spill tears Because it seems lately thats all I know; and as for my cousin, I don't know whether to call her a dopehead or a hoe Cause she fuckin for needles, but Lord I love my peoples I look at my tank in the mirror and hope I see something better But since i was nine i've been writing dear God letters Asking him to heal me and my block a bunch of sins committed But if a nigga call me in the middle of the night this street life shit I'm still wit it I try to accept it they tell me you are where you from So i guess i from dope, murder, and depression I still haven't learned my lesson Cause it seem like I'm a walk this mothafucka bad as fuck Letras de cancionesUntil the bags on my feet Mr. S-E-R uh V duckin from these streets [Chorus x4] [Halloway] I never had a role model Because my pappy hit the bottle And when on that nigga He fucked wit a nigga so my love for him was shadowed My momma constantly told me "Darling keep yo head up" But momma you bets ta call him cause I'm gettin fed up I was only sixteen wit the responsiblity of a grown man Any situation I encountered in school won't that coo so I broke the rules I got tired of being teased for wearing Wranglers instead of Lee's And I put that ha ha shit for free and I gained some enemies ????, half of my neighborhood was on drugs But my momma showed me love, she had to accept that I was a thug Imagin dealers not bein busted, police force not bein curropted No more pistol play in public and only God doin the judgin [Chorus x4] [Valerio] I grew up in poverty, eatin commodity, tried to carry myself modestly When the first and the fifteenth came around, felt like we hit the lottery I was too young to understand but old enough to remember We ate leftovers all the time, Santa Clause didn't come on Christmas The streets made us vicious, surrounded by killers throughout my childhood Hustlers hustle, and they showed me that it was good in my neighborhood You stand mighty, they flash thier cars when they get excited Momma got fired, no pention plan when she retired More wood to the fire, a bad situation got worse Stopped goin to church, started puttin in work, the man of the house ????? But imagine if I wasn't filled with hatred If I wasn't trapped in the game, I probably would make it [Spade] Imagin life without illegal drug transactions That's some shit I can't see when I'm tryin to make it on these streets I'm a soldier on the path that I ride is the path that I die I'm gonna make a case cause I'm not satisfied with just gettin by I'm a score me two chickens and hit my boulevard within my ward Like a man if I get caught up I can't do nothin but accept my charge Fuck rap, that's not where it's at, dawg I'm keepin it real It's all about the scrill, that's the shit the niggas could feel [Chorus x4] From Letras Mania