Are you looking for a topic DOWNLOAD MP3: ScHoolboy Q ft. Ty Dolla $ign, B-Real right? If so, then you can watch it right here.
Table of Contents
DOWNLOAD MP3: ScHoolboy Q ft. Ty Dolla $ign, B-Real | You can find many of the best lyrics here
ScHoolboy Q ft. Ty Dolla $ign, B-Real – BLACKS N MEXICANS (Official Audio) Download Mp3
[Intro: B-Real]
It’s crazy ’cause we all started together
You know, you go next door to Mario house (On the real)
Y’all exchange video games, know each other on a personal level
Now that these crackers got us at odds with one another
We done lost sight of the greater good (On the real)
We just live in peace and harmony
‘Cause we all come from God at the end of the day (Talk to ’em)
[Verse 1: Ty Dolla $ign]
L.A.-L.A., L.A.-L.A., ayy
He either Blood or he Crip or ese, ayy
I be out in Compton wearin’ [?], ayy
Then I slide to Bompton, rest in peace [?]
I’m a West side nigga, get it, best side
Got some real steppers with me from the East side
2022, I’m runnin’ for the mayor
Get it posted, lil’ homie, get your paper
Momma kicked me out the house, she said I’m disrespectful
My lil’ brother went to prison, we was livin’ reckless
Sergio was next door, we did our first tattoo
And you interrogate if you ain’t got it blasted on you, ooh
[Verse 2: B-Real]
Welcome to the jungle, in my hand, holdin’ thunder
On my block, call my number, put your ass in the slammer
Runnin’ hot like the Cali’ summer
When I was younger, the division used to put us under
Now don’t you wonder? Feelin’ blind from the one time
See us in, at the county on the gray line
And all I ever had was money on my fuckin’ mind
Now I’m livin’ in the war zone, gettin’ mine
You understand?
[Break]
You gotta get up outta there
We was gonna walk out on them
On they shit, the de Mayo thing
So we did
[Verse 3: Ty Dolla $ign]
Ayy, eighth grade, I never want to stay
We done took too many fades, tables fuckin’ up grades
It was Black versus Mexican, fightin’ in the locker room
Walkin’ down the block at night, hop out, pop at you
Always with the extra, never turn down
It was mixed dimes and dubs ’til we got the whole pound
Po-po, police, always gettin’ profiled
Black, rest in peace, they did my niggas so foul
Me and J, them, twenties took the fifties off
We was out in ’54, meals in [?]
Push as hell, B, we got the bitty on lock
Can’t believe we lost your pops, always said we’d be on top
Tried tell me, “Thug niggas don’t live that long”
Tried tell me, “Thug niggas don’t live that long”
They tried to tell me that I’d never make it, ooh
[Verse 4: ScHoolboy Q]
I got pistols hopin’ to fade, what’s the play? (Ayy)
Nigga, you gettin’ smoked underage, feelin’ godly (Ayy)
This molly my only crime (Brrt, brrt), ooh, yeah
Tiffany shades, this a wave
For the fame we change, all we wanna be was gang (Ayy)
Throw the charger or knock ’em, be hangin’, we on the way
In the mean, deaf crackers, we can’t escape, uh
Judge give me twenty, hell in my mother’s face, agh
Many men in minivan, hit the gate, uh
Mask, hoodie, ’cause this Crippin’ ain’t got a race, uh
Lord willin’ until we runnin’ out of faith
No fathers and dead homies, another day (Brrt)
DOWNLOAD MP3
You can find more useful information here: See here
DOWNLOAD MP3: ScHoolboy Q ft. Ty Dolla $ign, B-Real And searches related to this topic
#DOWNLOAD #MP3 #ScHoolboy #Dolla #ign #BReal
DOWNLOAD MP3: ScHoolboy Q ft. Ty Dolla $ign, B-Real
>>See more useful information provided by us here: https://australia.xemloibaihat.com.
Review the information related to the topic DOWNLOAD MP3: ScHoolboy Q ft. Ty Dolla $ign, B-Real again
ScHoolboy Q ft. Ty Dolla $ign, B-Real – BLACKS N MEXICANS (Official Audio) Download Mp3
[Intro: B-Real]
It’s crazy ’cause we all started together
You know, you go next door to Mario house (On the real)
Y’all exchange video games, know each other on a personal level
Now that these crackers got us at odds with one another
We done lost sight of the greater good (On the real)
We just live in peace and harmony
‘Cause we all come from God at the end of the day (Talk to ’em)
[Verse 1: Ty Dolla $ign]
L.A.-L.A., L.A.-L.A., ayy
He either Blood or he Crip or ese, ayy
I be out in Compton wearin’ [?], ayy
Then I slide to Bompton, rest in peace [?]
I’m a West side nigga, get it, best side
Got some real steppers with me from the East side
2022, I’m runnin’ for the mayor
Get it posted, lil’ homie, get your paper
Momma kicked me out the house, she said I’m disrespectful
My lil’ brother went to prison, we was livin’ reckless
Sergio was next door, we did our first tattoo
And you interrogate if you ain’t got it blasted on you, ooh
[Verse 2: B-Real]
Welcome to the jungle, in my hand, holdin’ thunder
On my block, call my number, put your ass in the slammer
Runnin’ hot like the Cali’ summer
When I was younger, the division used to put us under
Now don’t you wonder? Feelin’ blind from the one time
See us in, at the county on the gray line
And all I ever had was money on my fuckin’ mind
Now I’m livin’ in the war zone, gettin’ mine
You understand?
[Break]
You gotta get up outta there
We was gonna walk out on them
On they shit, the de Mayo thing
So we did
[Verse 3: Ty Dolla $ign]
Ayy, eighth grade, I never want to stay
We done took too many fades, tables fuckin’ up grades
It was Black versus Mexican, fightin’ in the locker room
Walkin’ down the block at night, hop out, pop at you
Always with the extra, never turn down
It was mixed dimes and dubs ’til we got the whole pound
Po-po, police, always gettin’ profiled
Black, rest in peace, they did my niggas so foul
Me and J, them, twenties took the fifties off
We was out in ’54, meals in [?]
Push as hell, B, we got the bitty on lock
Can’t believe we lost your pops, always said we’d be on top
Tried tell me, “Thug niggas don’t live that long”
Tried tell me, “Thug niggas don’t live that long”
They tried to tell me that I’d never make it, ooh
[Verse 4: ScHoolboy Q]
I got pistols hopin’ to fade, what’s the play? (Ayy)
Nigga, you gettin’ smoked underage, feelin’ godly (Ayy)
This molly my only crime (Brrt, brrt), ooh, yeah
Tiffany shades, this a wave
For the fame we change, all we wanna be was gang (Ayy)
Throw the charger or knock ’em, be hangin’, we on the way
In the mean, deaf crackers, we can’t escape, uh
Judge give me twenty, hell in my mother’s face, agh
Many men in minivan, hit the gate, uh
Mask, hoodie, ’cause this Crippin’ ain’t got a race, uh
Lord willin’ until we runnin’ out of faith
No fathers and dead homies, another day (Brrt)
DOWNLOAD MP3
Thank you very much for your interest in our article. We hope this information is of great value to you.