big hit - g'z don't cry lyrics
[hook]
(g’s ain’t supposed to cry) but that’s a lie
when my dog died, i cried, had the “ooh” wide on mine
(g’s ain’t supposed to cry) but that’s a lie!
homie, when my dog died on me, all i did was cry, homie
(g’s ain’t supposed to cry, dry yo’ eyes, g’s ain’t supposed to cry)
(g’s ain’t supposed to cry, dry yo’ eyes, g’s ain’t supposed to cry)
[verse 1]
look, lil’ homie, out the surface
from days, when i was worthless
the pain, i felt was searchless
from graves, in the back of churches
it hurts, just to think a og
my tools and og’s that died
at night, i mop through the grave site
cause sometimes i get lonely at times
get high, until my mind
get fried, i’m puttin’ in work
shed a tear, and take a swig
and pour the rest ’round in the dirt
kinda tired, steady poppin’ llamas
kinda tired, of a baby mama
kinda blinded, by the dope and the drama
young riders, beware of the karma
on the lurk, tryna murk for real
was blood and sweat in my palms
i’m break-ing, spiritual laws
but, god, they smoked my dog
on bloods, it’s full speed ahead
on sight, i’m sendin’ that lead
no hype, this ain’t for the bread
this for the state, for my n-ggas in the fed
locked down, straight buckin’ clownin’
been scarred, from special housing
walk the yard with ray-ray browning
look hard, these eyes ain’t smiling
around and deep down inside
bow down and pray ‘fore i ride
water swellin’, running down my eyes
n-ggas yellin’ while the bullets fly
[hook]
[verse 2]
i’m a anti-talker, anti-stalker
anti-police, anti-snitch
in the pen, i’m an -sset walker
homie, homie, you tell me the difference
between love and hatin’
when you find yourself surrounded by nothing
but suckas who love to snake
you can’t spook a g, like me
i been, bangin’ since the days of sins
and situations get ugly before they plug me
believe me, i’mma spray those friends
on me, if it’s vice versa
them same n-ggas’ll hurt ya!
play the con game and straight work ya
flock ya mama house and then murk ya
but that’ll never work, on a g
i’m up on the oldest part, of the game
i’m the type of n-gga that’ll blow some blunts wit’ ya
double back, blow out ya brains
this for the lanes, on me
this for the crips, the real og’s
this for the b-l-double o-d’s
h-b, macho, noreaga, p-t (v.i.p.)
[hook]
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