messy marv & san quinn - home lyrics
chorus: dee dee:
sellin dope makin c-notes
on the block with my glock runnin from po-po
spittin game breakin hoes
i’m tellin you every-thing i miss bout home
verse 1: san quinn:
started as a youngsta daddy was a hustler
creepin on a come up to keep my family happy
we hardly was starving dinner like on the daily
from the 80’s came the 90’s find me on the corner grindin
big ben gave out deals for ten
20 dollars then meant a lot to quinn and friends
i’m out at night on my mountain bike after them ends
thinking by the time i’m 16 i’d be pushin a benz
or a two tone caprice cl-ssic four fifteens blastin
dopefiends -ss and i’m servin
p-ss the 40 and i’m slurpin
we used to play nintendo now we blowin indo
climbing through n-ggas windows in search of kilos
straight illegal
messy marv:
i was exposed to this ghetto life thugs and slugs
and every young n-gga’s dream was moving ki’s of drugs
showing hoes no love unless a b-tch was beneficial
f-ck that other sh-t i’m trying to be like felix mitch-ll
using street utensils like big chops and grenades
you had to grind for a time if you wanted some change
do dirt put in work if you wanted to hang
you played the game or f-cked around
and got your t-shirt stained
playboy it ain’t the same and about these hoes
if you ain’t f-cking with no g’s you ain’t f-ckin fa sho
ain’t bout no game no more or how a n-gga finesse
suckas done f-cked these hoes heads up by keepin em fresh
so they ain’t f-ckin with mess cuz they gets nathan
i’m too busy in this game ice skating
i reminisce and miss when n-ggas wasn’t fakin
when it was funk it was funk no conversating
hold court in the street no police stations
called it animosity not player hatin
trials and tribulations got me thinking fa sho
i’m telling you everything a young n-gga miss bout home
hook
verse 2: san quinn:
it’s like no holes barred n-ggas gone ball or what
comes the call they don’t wanna gang of us
dangerous let’s bust this fight we outnumbered
they reachin for they pistols the bullets would surp-ss my ears
with no fear of faith realizing the dirty game the lord granted me grace
one on ones and twos to cruel to buy them jackers to know who’s robbin who
foul individuals lead they life chasin stripes
callin hoes b-tches swear we never have a wife
at the movie on the first night seventeen profound
drama goes down i’m ready for the showdown
n-ggas not knowing cuz i’m not flashin
showing no emotions disrespect and i’ll be blastin
still young in high school in a hardcore period
all in a jiggy head talking bout k!llin it
the illest sh-t real and illegitimate i experienced in my
environment i ain’t fearing sh-t
messy marv:
i miss house parties freaking hoodrat hoes
turn that motherf-cker out bustin three-eight-o’s
depart and outsmart neighborhood po-po’s
waking up and reminiscin about the night before
sneaking out mom’s smokin refers wearing adidas
grindin hard as f-ck for some guess jeans and filas
that was the dresscode now it’s nikes and girbauds
versace and armani on a high priced hoe
it’s the west coast young n-ggas burn rubber
and g’s that laced me was calling d’s hubbers
gold weed laced with big dope
12-hundred for an ounce in a drought going britnome
star wires and vogue tires fifteens and zapco’s
hittin high school trying to floss on hood hoes
no l’s or registration watchin out for the po-po’s
high speed chases wrappin mobs into street poles
trying to hit the pen and touch down on [?]
that’s the sh-t a young n-gga miss bout getting home
pimps in britnomes, illegal chips, fentanyls
in turf coats, levi’s with brims on
the game is thick and the paper is long
telling you everything a young n-gga miss bout home
hook
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