philthy rich - reasons lyrics
[intro: bobby luv]
give me h-ll a reason
i got a chopper in case i gotta squeeze one
[chorus: bobby luv]
give me h-ll a reason
i got a chopper in case i gotta squeeze one
a gangster, everybody tryna be one
my n-gg-s in the back, i gotta feed ’em
[verse 1: philthy rich]
everybody wanna be a gangster ’til gangster sh-t happen
but n-gg- only gangster sh-t you know is gangster rap
salute to obama, yeah lil d back
these rat n-gg-s slippin’ through loopholes and cracks
rest in peace to the jack, i was mobbin’ on my rack
did my time in san larita, stayed solid and came back
can’t produce my name in no n-gg-‘s paperwork
left them suckers on a shirt ’cause they was playin’ with the turf
i been solid since birth, chopper silence out the work
putting mileage on the skrt, f-ck college it didn’t work
i sip lean, don’t f-ck with percs
believe in god but don’t go to church
ankle monitor with a curf’
being a gangster can be a curse
[chorus: bobby luv]
give me h-ll a reason
i got a chopper in case i gotta squeeze one
a gangster, everybody tryna be one
my n-gg-s in the back, i gotta feed ’em
[verse 2: mozzy]
i be on that wish a n-gg- would sh-t
hating to cop a serial, that’s hood sh-t
it’s down to fifty copper bullets and a wood stick
i love that lil n-gg- ’cause he wouldn’t snitch
beach boy, sandbox me for the wood chips
fifty k in diamonds, that’s a cooked brick
hood riches, ballin’ on ’em baby, all net
they praying on my downfall, we ain’t fall yet
lil hibachis on my lean, yeah and they all wet
we taggin’ up your big toe and n-gg-s talk whack
shoot somethin’, my shooters accepting all bets
cook his -ss well done, now it’s raw flesh
[chorus: bobby luv]
give me h-ll a reason
i got a chopper in case i gotta squeeze one
a gangster, everybody tryna be one
my n-gg-s in the back, i gotta feed ’em
[verse 3: g perico]
rap sheet full of gun cases
twenty-five, four hundred
before i see the judge i’m bailing out with old money
get my b-tch on the line to come get me
that amg kick skrt when i’m floating through the city
don’t ask why i do that, b-tch i’m ganster
and dirty south central, where your own homies try to stank you
n-gg-s made me a beast, from the hundred side east
kick door, gun spray all over my street
i’m just a ballin’ -ss, ghetto -ss, gerry curl bag
left side, blue rag, n-gg-s get to politicking
get out my way, i need a billion
give me a reason, i got too many k!llers
it’s g
[chorus: bobby luv]
give me h-ll a reason
i got a chopper in case i gotta squeeze one
a gangster, everybody tryna be one
my n-gg-s in the back, i gotta feed ’em
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