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fucc a struggle - c.o.s. (usa) lyrics

[intro]
no more struggle
no more, homie
can’t do it no more
let me put this cigarette out real quick
show you what’s on my mind

[verse 1]
i ain’t got no problems with you personally, i’m just starving
and i spent my last dollar on this bourbon plus i’m walking
perfed and drunk off the hard stuff, you best to keep your guard up, gangsta
’cause i got something hard tucked down at my ankles
ain’t no stranger to this hard and rough street lifestyle
spent half of my life behind the bars, come from being a wild child
but now soon as a n*gga touch down, you know the routine
like anything to flip some bucks, you bustas best to come clean
my finger’s on the machine that’s made to k!ll peoplе
made to spill peoples brains all ovеr their peacoat
brains all over their regal if they sitting in that
my bullets flying like an eagle when i’m gripping the gat
them bustas dying by the sequels when i’m sipping on that
employment chances ain’t equal, they ain’t hitting my back
so i’m into ripping up tracks and leaving blood on my chucks
skipping out the back way with the yay and the bucks
stuffed in my duffle bag as i take another drag of the sherm stick
then hit a couple more fences to get legit
i’m on that sh*t that keep a n*gga sick and ready to trip
and since my pockets ain’t too thick, i’m into ganking and sh*t
i’m into slanging and sh*t, i’m into banging and sh*t
so i keep guns in my fists keep them aimed at a b*tch
’cause it ain’t sh*t to let ’em rip and split a n*gga in half like a whole thang
quit coming short, mane, on some of the cash
[chorus]
f*ck a struggle, even if i gotta make blood bubble
it’s a hustle, strap m*ffled, hopping on blood puddles
for my cuzzo doing time, 80 proof gets guzzled
even if i gotta make blood bubble, f*ck a struggle
f*ck a struggle, even if i gotta make blood bubble
it’s a hustle, strap m*ffled, hopping on blood puddles
for my cuzzo doing time, 80 proof gets guzzled
then we bust your sh*t wide and raise you up off them bundles, n*gga

[verse 2]
now first off, let see, if i had my choice
i’d k!ll this snitch n*gga i know, creep up on him at point
blank range, leave his brains on my pistol and dip
sn*tch his chains if he got ’em, you ought to see this, b*tch
then i’d k!ll this b*tch i know for always running her mouth
look, she ain’t even my hoe no more but i’d just k!ll her to take her out
’cause i hate hoes that keep a n*gga depressed
no panties when they dress, bending over showing the world they br**sts
i slit their neck after f*ckin’ naked doggystyle in the field
and leave their ass there, sh*t i don’t care, i’m off a couple pills
plus a couple blunts of k!ll and a fifth of bourbon, what’s the deal?
a n*gga perfing now for real, sweating bad and can’t keep still
chills through my body, hotties smoking as i bail to
my next destination, bodies floating after i bail through
i got so much to tell you, just ain’t got enough time
’bout all the marks that i ran into and n*ggas that crossed the line
snitches that dropped a dime, b*tches that cost me time
in the sacramento county jail where i wrote half the rhymes
from my first album but now i’m out and everybody paying
all them m*th*f*ckas snaking and b*tch n*ggas that was hating
leave ’em shaking somewhere, i don’t care and n*gga f*ck you too
’cause i used to front you dope sacks back in ’92
now you wanna act like you the big man balling
you know who you is, n*gga, so you need to stop calling
you a b*tch, spending chips to get a trick, man you’s a captain save a
so here, taste this spray, i used to love ya, now i hate ya
and that’s the way i’ll play ya ’cause you played yourself already
you shouldn’t have been a sucka for love
give up that feddi, cuz
[chorus]
f*ck a struggle, even if i gotta make blood bubble
it’s a hustle, strap m*ffled, hopping on blood puddles
for my cuzzo doing time, 80 proof gets guzzled
even if i gotta make blood bubble, f*ck a struggle
f*ck a struggle, even if i gotta make blood bubble
it’s a hustle, strap m*ffled, hopping on blood puddles
for my cuzzo doing time, 80 proof gets guzzled
then we bust your sh*t wide and raise you up off them bundles, n*gga

[verse 3]
now every time i grab the mic it’s like everybody listen
all tryna figure out who the f*ck a n*gga dissing
but i’m just keeping it real, that’s why i don’t mention names
’cause half of these n*ggas ain’t even worth it, they just frauds in the game
i’m from the north where the gangstas and the hustlers hang
i’m from that porch where we used to post and hustle that caine
say f*ck a wh0re, k!lled them bottles up and do our thang
and if it’s war, load them hollows up and put down the bang
blow out some brains, sn*tching chains, do our thang in the rain
camouflaged by the weather, n*gga, this north gate gang
forever so you bustas better give me fifteen feet
or hide your hustle when i come around, i’ll sn*tch your little ass off the street
and see, my mission ain’t complete until my dollars get stacked up
to the point where i can just kick back and smoke a hundred sacks up
like any time i want, don’t have to ask no one for sh*t
’cause 9 times out of 10 if they refuse i’ll blast the b*tch
i pass the fifth to my playa partnas and that’s all
so b*tches, keep your lips off if they ain’t wrapped around b*lls
i keep the strap in my drawls ’cause so many n*ggas be hating
over sh*t i be saying or all the game i be laying
i take ’em to the next level, loc, and they don’t like that
’cause they still stuck on that other, who can f*ck with the hustla?
i lay it down for the north and represent the whole town
and if you ain’t siccmade, b*tch, you’re probably struggling now
[chorus]
f*ck a struggle, even if i gotta make blood bubble
it’s a hustle, strap m*ffled, hopping on blood puddles
for my cuzzo doing time, 80 proof gets guzzled
even if i gotta make blood bubble, f*ck a struggle
f*ck a struggle, even if i gotta make blood bubble
it’s a hustle, strap m*ffled, hopping on blood puddles
for my cuzzo doing time, 80 proof gets guzzled
then we bust your sh*t wide and hit your safe for them bundles, n*gga

[outro]
n*gga, i’m tried of m*th*f*ckin’ starving, all that sh*t, n*gga
f*ck anybody who ain’t down with siccmade
f*ck anybody who ain’t down with my n*gga e*moe
and it’s like that, n*gga, now eat
we gon’ put the food on the m*th*f*ckin’ plate, n*gga
and you gon’ eat that sh*t, n*gga
north side, siccmade, b*flat, cos, brotha lynch
godd*mn, should i go on or should i stop right here?

- c o s usa lyrics

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