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thug muzik - termanology lyrics

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[verse 1: h blanco]
i don’t wanna go, i don’t, i don’t wanna go
i want my soul to live forever like geronimo
product of this environment, sh-t where i’ma go?
they throw me in with the lions, we gon’ put on a show
all i know is supplyin’ ’em with the dusted flow
this sh-t i spit be wet, n-gga, pappadeaux
more shootings and students that’s k!llin’ little kids
this might be the antichrist, i don’t trust a thing
n-ggas now don’t value life and die over bling
n-ggas now don’t run through life so they’d rather sing
sh-t, i want a knife like the book of eli
i’m denzel, watchin’ these n-ggas fill the m-sses with lies
this why people k!ll people and go eye for an eye
way before great biggie smalls, they’ve been ready to die
premeditate that moment when they see their foe
and treat ’em like paper targets, fill ’em with holes

[hook] x2
know where i’ve been and know what i’ve seen and
not a thing can keep me from hustlin’
never look down, keep on movin’ ahead
flyin’ on high, no need to settle in

[verse 2: termanology]
the streets on fire, four murders in the weekend
ain’t n0body snitchin’ cause they don’t want it to be them
the world’s corrupt, suckerpunch a cop and he’s sure to bust
stuff him and he’ll murder you, look what happened in ferguson
hands up, don’t shoot, they ain’t tellin’ the whole truth
the whole world sleepin’ and sh-t, so you can see the proof
usin’ their iphones as video recorders
channel 5 from the corners, we’re like ghetto reporters
my homie came through with a smith n in his hand
he just sn-tched another chain, put the picture on the ‘gram
it’s no f-cks given anymore
you get robbed bareface front of the camera just to make an example
i grew up like the regular thug, on the run, eatin’
every weekend i’m sittin’ at gang meetings
my cousin’s gettin’ shot, we runnin’, duckin’ from cops
man it ain’t a f-ckin’ thing, you can’t tell me about the block

[hook] x2

[verse 3: ea$y money]
i know you hate to hear the drama, but drama’s all we know
another night twisted, breakin’ the law for dough
more 4s to blow, never cut it, tryna score some blow
itchin’, tryna find a purer snow
the block’s hot when it’s 4 below
another discouraged brotha hustlin’ cause of that cori, yo
another hood rat tryna trap a n-gga at the maury show
seems bugged but that’s the world we know
sometimes i sit and reflect, and i can’t remember
how many times i was supposed to be a gang member
but wasn’t takin’ orders from someone of the same gender
the point guard with the big n-ggas that played center
shot called it, i pop all you
my n-gga you was on them blocks order
never put in work and got caught up
no more postin’ with the glocks on corners to pop ’em on yah
i transform the easy to hip-hop performer

[hook] x2

[bridge]
we’re just thuggin’ it out for you
we’re just thuggin’ it out for you
we’re just thuggin’ it out for you
we’re just thuggin’ it out for you

[outro]
thug music

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