|
[Featuring Pizzo]
|
[C Bo]
|
It's 1994 gang bangin' done played out
|
But I still stay strapped cause I don't wanna get played out
|
On the concrete with internal bleedin'
|
Moms at my hand screamin': 'Bo don't leave me!'
|
I'm stairin' in to the sky thinkin' that I'm gonna die
|
Here come the onetime fuck the pigs they are the last I wanna see
|
Pen and pad no love from the deputy
|
Onetime's gettin' deeper
|
And Finally I hear the ambulance creep up
|
I'm feelin' dehydrated
|
They hook me up with some I.V. and a life flight
|
Sayin' that I'm gonna make it
|
Hoo-ride was the first thing on my mind
|
But the onetime got prints from my Tec-9
|
They busted first and I busted back in return
|
Ain't no love for them faggot ass baby worms
|
That's all I gotta say to porky
|
Now get the fuck out my face
|
Detective got mad but I can give a fuck less
|
I got family and they won't let the shit rest on my side
|
Bald head mean muggin' locs, 3-10, 6-5
|
Is my nigga Teebo, Big Ikey hittin' like a viking
|
Insane in the brain and can't wait to ride, see
|
No matter what they do, you can lock me down
|
But at twelve caught a ghetto fligt
|
Cause there still be smokin'...
|
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven...
|
They ridin' on my bumber, bustin' with a Mac-11...
|
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven...
|
They ridin' on my bumber, bustin' with a Mac-11...
|
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven...
|
They ridin' on my bumber, bustin' with a Mac-11...
|
[Pizzo]
|
As I've seen deep in my thoughts
|
Not thinkin' of my senses and all the blood I done lost
|
It seems like I'm stucked with no luck all of a sudden
|
So mothafuckas swiftly sweeped on the P-I double Z-O man
|
I was helpless, if ya could have felt this pain
|
I had in my side and my brain
|
Never think that I could end up on my back, player
|
I never thought a slug could enter through my skin layers
|
Fuck! I feel a burnin' sensation and I'm waitin'
|
For the pain to go away but I know it's gonna stay
|
So I guess I'm fucked in the game
|
Then appeared a bird in the sky, don't know where it came
|
Snatched the P-I double Z-O quick, took me on the trip
|
Don't know which direction, I'm waitin'
|
Felt like I went cross the continent
|
Seems like it took a whole day, then we touched down
|
White coats all around, suprise, I'm alive in a hospital
|
Done lost half of my soul, I feel I left control
|
I'm slippin' away, I took my life for granted
|
A few hours passed and I still feel stranded
|
I'm awakin' to see shit in front of me that I never seen before
|
But I feel alright, then I tripped that I just took the ghetto
|
fligt...
|
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven...
|
They ridin' on my bumber, bustin' with a Mac-11...
|
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven...
|
They ridin' on my bumber, bustin' with a Mac-11...
|
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven...
|
They ridin' on my bumber, bustin' with a Mac-11...
|
[C-Bo]
|
My homie took a bullet in the kidney
|
HK in my hand, down on one knee
|
On his side, Q-Ball don't die
|
Mad as fuck and I don't understand why
|
The little B.G.'s didn't bust no caps
|
After a minute shoot-out still had a loaded strap
|
Damn and they supposed to be hardcore bangers
|
And I got the only empty cocked back chamber
|
Prayin' for my homie not to rest in peace the shit
|
Just ain't right to take a life from an O.G.
|
Retalion is all I can think
|
Negative and incorrect, here comes the P.D.
|
Damn, I got a gat and my homie don't look too good
|
I hear the bird over the hood
|
Now I got faith he'll make it
|
Without a doubt the next album's dedicated
|
To my homie Q-Ball
|
Rest in peace and fuck the rest of ya'll
|
So-called homies, I don't the meanin' when I'm hittin' ya down
|
But when I'm gone ya wanna see me
|
Ain't no love in this Garden Blocc life
|
And I won't sweat to put a bullet in your chest
|
And have you next on the ghetto fligt...
|
|
|
-----------------
|
ghetto flight
|
c bo |