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last friday - mir fontane lyrics

[produced by lil d beatz]

[verse 1: mir fontane]
man i’m just ridin’ ’round the hood in a cl-ssic
only thing promised to me is a casket
craig in the back kicking game to a bad b-tch
things ain’t the same since deebo got his -ss kicked
started off broke used to smoke my own dope
now i move work and a n-gga sell soap
got the lowrider with the hunnid inch spokes
craig still ain’t got a job so i showed him the ropes
and we just sit and relax we sell work out the back
i still buy cigarettes for my mama
in exchange for some p-ssy, some head, and some cooking, i even give packs to ms. parker
ezel shot the reverend and debbie got pregnant
but craig he ain’t having no kids
felicia od’d and her momma blame me but man f-ck it
it is what it is
pull up to the crib one wheel on the curb
finna roll up let the motherf-cker burn
sipping warm liquor but we smoking on sherm
22 missed calls and they all from big worm
guess we never gon’ learn, never
tryna get myself together
he constantly calling and texting me
answer my phone and then this what he said to me

[bridge: authentick]
if you don’t got my money, or my weed
you got till’ 10:30, that’s all the time you need
then imma k!ll you, and him
and you won’t live to see another friday, oh friday
if you don’t got my money, or my bud
ooo i’m so done talking smokey imma f-ck you up!
first imma k!ll you, then him
and you won’t live to see another friday, oh friday

[verse 2]
too high, too stoned, man we just as good as two tombstones
too late, we’re too gone, on the corner taking 40’s to the dome
ms. jones, ms. jones, please loan a n-gga some bread
cuz the fiends just ain’t buying the sh-t we supplying
and soon enough me and yo’ son gon’ be dead
posted up on the block me and craig got the strap
it’s almost 10:30 and we still short a stack
worm calls his phone i said,”don’t answer that”
but after a while he just stops calling back, uh
[sang]dead man walking, proceed with caution
a black honda civic was hawkin’, they stepped on the gas then pulled up and start sparkin’
we ran up the street, and made a left, uh
man we just running for our life
man it’s either bust back, or face death, uh
and we ain’t tryna’ see that light
made it back to my crib and we ran up the steps
banging on the front door just tryna’ catch our breath
them n-ggas drove by with they uzis and techs
2 shots to the chest i think craig got wet, oh no

[“friday” movie cut]

[verse 3]
every time i come downstairs you in the kitchen
arm and hammer baking soda f-ckin’ up my dishes
i been getting drunk and facing blunts, i’m getting weeded
put the green up in the dutch and roll it when i need it
i been mackin’ f-cking b-tches, back in 1987
bullet to my chest it missed my heart now that’s a blessin’
went to school and met yo’ mama since day one she been a rida’
hunnid grams of cocaine stuffed up in her cucaracha

[(outro(x2))]
praise god hallelujah i done made it off that corner
no more dead bodies in the trunk of my corolla
you gon’ need a dr. pepper, pistols pop like coca-cola
‘nother dollar in yo’ pocket, ‘nother friday on that corner
(‘nother friday on that corner n-gga)

- mir fontane lyrics

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