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down here (feat. shabba wolf) - montana of 300 lyrics

broad days, everybody wanna shine out here
9 to 5, they gon get it, so they grind out here
n-gg-s dying, can’t believe i’m still alive down here
trynna climb, hoping i don’t lose my mind down here
down here, down here
down here, down here
down here
down here, down here
trynna climb, hoping i don’t lose my mind
down here

i grew up in the bricks, down here
no nice neighbors, no picket fence, down here
only time i felt we was rich down here
is when my og got food stamps and wic down here
life’s a b-tch, down here
yo dawg might turn into a b-tch, down here
these n-gg-s snitch, down here
that’s how we gets, down here
my og sold our microwave, to get a fix, down here
lord, i’ve
seen so much pain down here
in my days, i’ve seen so much shame, down here
sunny days, it still seems to rain, down here
and the devil’s the one they blame down here
lord
grab the wheel, it’s too hard to steer, down here
trying hard to not shed a tear, down here
we don’t get no justice from cops, down here
or solve mysteries, big and pac, down here
lord
everybody playing for keeps, down here
opportunities out of reach, down here
they don’t give us enough to eat, down here
jealousy, they always compete, down here
not enough of us trynna teach, down here
no one practices what they preach, down here
and these demons don’t go to sleep, down here
way, too much blood been spilt in these streets
down here
lord
don’t get wet, i swear life’s a beach, down here
we, leave our mothers covered in sheets, down here
sh-t ain’t sweet, down here
come take a peek, down here
six feet, families weep
cause it gets deep, down here
lord
from the low end, where they thugging out
n-gg-s wearing j’s like they bugging out
you either played ball, or you sold drugs
where i’m from, i swear there wasn’t another route
fiends running in and out my mother house
everybody robbing in the summer droughts
g-ngb-ngers killing for some f–king clout
even killing n-gg-s when the sun was out
if it’s wartime, then the guns was out
even pistols hidden in the f–king couch
n-gg-s going crazy, no straitjacket
like a waste basket, when they dump em out
neighbors witnessed murders but when police came
they ain’t know a thang
they ain’t run they mouth
bunch of stealing, killing, drug dealing villains
down here they get it, how to come up out?
stomach pains, ain’t no hernia
just in case the lord doesn’t hear me
your engine, yeah turn me up
if jesus coming to save us
please tell em to hurry up
hope the devil don’t burn me up
and that’s why i stay 30’ed up

- feat shabba wolf montana of 300 lyrics

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