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jackson - chris ray's music lyrics

[chorus]
i grew up in jackson
where a n*gga k!ll you for your pac sun
try to shoot your shot and get packed, sun
where a momma and toddler share a pack, son
gentrified neighborhoods send you packing
you don’t wanna be on the wrong side
find your head onna porch, light yo ass with a torch
having clout get you k!lled by the reckless

[verse 1]
got n*ggas cooking up in the kitchen
making music, burning pyrex dishes
keep the gas in the car, no tesla
making signature moves like a wrestler
whole squad just tryna make it out
everyday date night: they’ll take you out
fry a p*ssy n*gga like fries and trout
i’ll never forget the times she deceived me
no phone calls. no i’m not receiving
lebron’s hairline: i’m a start receding
elementary kids dying in shootings
seeing jr. high acting ruthless
jail and high school ain’t no difference
they ring the bell and give you a sentence
ain’t no genie granting no three wishes
the grim reaper completes his hit list
be aware of the things they carry
that’s hurt, pain, grieve and worry
mix that witha glock nine; that’s scary
k!ll everybody in function like carrie
seen a n*gga roc*a*fella like jay*z
make it to the top, dawg, tde
baby dripping like water, that’s fiji
booty move by itself. that’s ouija
and it’s crazy how n*ggas wanna k!ll you
at the same time, tell you they feel you
telling momma you’ll be home real soon
n*gga, god bout you see you real soon
tryna make it home, no streetlights on
slow your roll like driving over potholes
windows rolling down on a dark crown vic
and you standing there looking like, “ay, ju!”

[chrous]
i grew up in jackson
where a n*gga k!ll you for your pac sun
try to shoot your shot and get packed, sun
where a momma and toddler share a pack, son
gentrified neighborhoods send you packing
you don’t wanna be on the wrong side
find your head onna porch, light yo ass with a torch
having clout get you k!lled by the reckless

[verse 2]
ghost town, north side, that’s ju side
south side where the k!llas reside
west side: capital and lindsey
it’s crazy: i grew up in all three
but was never what lived around me
but on the inside, it’s still inside me
my daddy was raised a real g
so, my daddy raised up a real g
he said get out of here and get some real gs
or your potential gone be k!lled like ricky
i was 5 when i seen a n*gga pull a strap on my brother’s chest
saw my great granny die in the flesh
seen a n*gga die from bullets to the chest
and they wonder why i don’t get rest
but it’s crazy cause i haven’t seen the worse
thankfully, i grew up in the church
thankfully, my mom and dad could work
even though my daddy had to serve the work
but i never had to make them bullets disperse
i never had to prove anybody my worth
i had many n*ggas try to sell me the perc
but i was able overlook the perks
never had to steal from momma’s purse
they didn’t make much but they made it work
from my hometown, there’s a lot of artists
you can put them a beat, camera or canvas
graduated from college campus
told the university that they owe me
i’ll be d*mned if i ever paid money
no loans but i left with a degree
but that still don’t mean that i’m free
living everyday, you pay yo fee
it’s unfortunate and don’t guarantee
when i get out my car, they won’t try and k!ll me
but if i die, i still die a real me
yeah, i know that the city gone feel me
this is for n*ggas in jackson
go ahead and get yo racks, son
get yo hundreds, fifties and jacksons
when it’s all said and done, give back, son

ay, jonboy. what that sound like?
ay, i think this the one right here
yeah

[outro]
(kuwabara)
“we all have to die when our time comes, but if we do our duty, we don’t go regrets!”

- chris rays music lyrics

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