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Текст песни Freeway - What We Do

Freeway - What We Do слова песни




[Freeway]Man if I get rocked, this shit for my kids niggaIt`s that real shit...(female singer, repeated throughout the verses)*Even though what we do is wrong...*We still hustle `til the sun come upCrack a 40 when the sun go downIt`s a cold winterY`all niggaz better bundle upAnd I bet it be a hotter summer, grab a onionYes the ROC gets down, you hot now, listen upDon`t you know cops` whole purpose is to lock us down?And throw away the keyBut without this drug shit your kids ain`t got no way to eat, huh?We still try to keep Mom...smilin`...Cuz when the teeth stop showin` and the stomach start growlin`Then the heat start flowin`If you from the hood I know you feel me (Jay-Z: Keep goin`...)If a sneak start leanin` and the heat stop workin`Then my heat start workin` I`m-a rob me a personCatch a nigga sleepin` while he out in the open...and I`m-a get him (Jay-Z: Keep flowin`...)We gotta raise our kids while we livin`Make a million off-a record bail my niggaz outta prisonFuck a Bentley or a Lexus just my boys in the squadderNigga talk reckless then I hit `em with the Smif `n...But I`m never snitchin` I`m a riderIf my kids hungry snatch the dishes out ya kitchenI`ll be wylin` til they pick me outta line-up...We keep the nines tucked, chopped dimes up, rap about itWyle out, fuck niggaz up, laugh about itI`m not tryin` to visit the morgue but Freeway move out `til I sit with the Lord`Til I...get my shit together, clean up my sinsFreeway got it in like 10 in the mornin`And I can get it to ya like 10 while you yawnin` mang...Still deliver the order mang!And I ain`t talkin` bout chicken and gravy mang!I`m talkin` bout bricks `o ye-yo, halves and quarters4 and a halves of hash you do the mathSwing past us scoop up your daughterShe wanna roll wit` a thug that rap, you do the mathHe won`t blast `til my stacks in order mang![Jay-Z]...MANG! Lemme get `em FreeHove never slackin` mang, zippin` in the black RangeFaster than the red ghost, gettin` ghost wit` Pac-MangOne-time know a got a knack to get that changeLeader of the black gang, R-O-C mangBang like T-Mac, ski mask air it outGotta kill witnesses `cause Free`s beard`s stickin` outY`all don`t want no witness shit, we squeeze hammers mangBullets breeze by you, like Lousiana mang...But I gotta feed Tianna mang...So I move keys you can call me the Piano ManRain...sleet, hail...snow manSlang dough, E, hydro man...[Beanie Sigel]...no, B. Sige in the third laneGramps still prayin` workin on my nerves man...Like, "Son you gotta get your soul clean...Before they blow them horns like Coltrane..."But still I cry tears of a hustlerWipe tears from my mother, pull out beers for her brothers...That`s above us, make beds for the babiesTuck kids under covers, buy cribs for their mothersShit I`ll probably be wylin` with their fathersTell Ms. Robert, tell Enijah that I`m ridin` for her fatherThat`s like my brother, like same mother different fatherAny problems dog know I got `emAnd still we grind from the bottomJust to make it to the bottom sold crack in the alleywaysStill gave back Marcy a Dollar DayReal gangstas make hood holidaysThey ain`t thank us but we still paid homage mangSoul Food Sunday lookin` like Big Momma`s mangTell the gang I never break my promise mang...mang...unnh!

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