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crook brown & samtrax - inspired by true events lyrics

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[intro: crook brown]
yeah
southside crook
inspired by true events

[chorus: crook brown]
this a open letter from a trill n+gga
this a open letter from a trill n+gga
hit them p+ssy n+ggas wit’ the steel, n+gga
all that tough talkin’ get you k!lled, n+gga
this a open letter from a trill n+gga
this a open letter from a trill n+gga
hit them p+ssy n+ggas wit’ the steel, n+gga (brrr)
all that tough talkin’ get you k!lled, n+gga

[verse 1: crook brown]
son of a saint, but i’m one wit’ the demons
since adolescence, i don’t made my assessment for money, i’m fiendin’
and to be real, it’s abundance of reasons
but i just want it, patеnt leather, cool greys, thе money for pizza
forgive me momma, i know i’m a heathen
when church folks know your son sell dope, should you like it beneath ’em
like for once, just try to be decent
but i can’t, plus them motherf+ckers fake, i’m not a believer
what kinda world where they k!lled my n+gga cigarette
how lil’ earl get a bullet? n+gga wasn’t a threat
f+ck all that cool sh+t, stay dangerous
golden rule, if you rep it, then you better bang it, ahh
[pre+chorus: crook brown]
i’m wit’ whatever from the start, n+gga, no pressure
i break the necks and pull yo cards, n+gga
whenever i jumped off the porch and n+ggas asked me where i’m from
i told ’em straight, college motherf+ckin’ park, n+gga, ayy

[chorus: crook brown]
this a open letter from a trill n+gga
this a open letter from a trill n+gga
hit them p+ssy n+ggas wit’ the steel, n+gga (bow)
all that tough talkin’ get you k!lled, n+gga
this a open letter from a trill n+gga
this a open letter from a trill n+gga
hit them p+ssy n+ggas wit’ the steel, n+gga (brrr)
all that tough talkin’ get you k!lled, n+gga

[verse 2: samtrax]
uh
we from [?] [1:43], smokin’ pistol on the counter
tryna turn a four and a baby to a f+ckin’ mountain
young n+gga wit’ the ambition
all i needed was a couple kicked doors and the ammunition
if it’s a drought and you got it, then i’m on the way
very first time you hit a l!ck, feel like the sba
is there a heaven for a thug, n+gga?
where i’ll be greeted at the gate by all the scammers and the drug dealers, lord
i’m in your spot, you besta up the paper
make any false move, n+gga, you gon’ meet your maker
and b+tch, shut up all that cryin’, it’s what come wit’ it
oh you thought it was all shoppin’ sprees and spondivits?
nah, go get that motherf+ckin’ work, ho, lord
or you gon nap up under dirt, ho, god
the game cold and i’m outside
a young thuggin’ motherf+cker screamin’ “southside”
(southside, southside, southside, southside
southside, southside, southside, southside)



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