styles p - throw down lyrics
[verse 1: trae tha truth]
ain’t nothin’ promised but death, but accepting it’s kinda drastic
momma scared to sleep, cause she visioned me in a casket
black, say he cursed, somehow i feel like he past it
now i hit the hood with a k and a piece of plastic
most of my sisters gone; how the f-ck is this sh-t apart of life?
right after the judge send me brother to do a couple lives
i know i’m supposed to be grateful; the devil made me hateful
lookin’ at my dog on the table; condition wasn’t stable
told ’em “bring him back”, but the doctor told me they wasn’t able
walk with me; i’ll show you a movie, that sh-t you see on cable
they found my homie momma murdered, face inside her bible
he was destined for nfl, now he suicidal
d-mn; lookin’ at my son, i only think to stay
instead of thinkin’ “what could make it worse?”, i only think to pray
cause where i’m from, they tell me all gangstas gon’ die the same
before i let ’em crash my dreams, i’mma fly like a plane
[hook: styles p]
always a go-down, always a showdown
i’m on an up-and-up, cause n-ggas is low-down
i be f-ckin’ up, pray to god that i slow down
but this the fast life, throw it up if you throw down
always a go-down, always a showdown
i’m on an up-and-up, cause n-ggas is low-down
i be f-ckin’ up, pray to god that i slow down
but this the fast life, throw it up if you throw down
[verse 2: fred da godson]
i know the fans listen
from the hood to hollywood; it’s a transition
face under my hood, just like a transmission
grams to ambition; i recall re’n-up and a gram missin’
mom christian; father was a black spade
uncle funeral parlor cause of a black gauge
i rap, i’m paid, and they well jealous
they almost got me, i shot three [?]
i’m from the hood, medicate [?]
if fred afraid, then tell us; doubt that
well money, murder, i’m ’bout that
and they about it, too
i’m tryin’ stay focused, god forgive me what i’m ’bout to do
i know more people in a coma than diplomas
the gun powder aroma, with coronas on the corner
well, i play the stoop, and then i spray the deuce
n-ggas lie; my homie trae the truth
[hook: styles p]
always a go-down, always a showdown
i’m on an up-and-up, cause n-ggas is low-down
i be f-ckin’ up, pray to god that i slow down
but this the fast life, throw it up if you throw down
always a go-down, always a showdown
i’m on an up-and-up, cause n-ggas is low-down
i be f-ckin’ up, pray to god that i slow down
but this the fast life, throw it up if you throw down
[verse 3: styles p]
am i addicted to pain?
we’ll stumble in the sun, but we’ll never slip in the rain
is insanity sane?
i pray when i’m high or i ride; now is that foul?
blowin’ a blunt, but i’m exhalin’ a black cloud
when i die, don’t cry, n-gga, laugh loud
twenty-one gun salute with a mask, in a masked crowd
shooter and the horker
but i don’t wanna charger or sin
take out my pain as the mc or the author
brother gone, father gone, couple of the homies gone
time flyin’, i’m ready to get my lonely on
i wanna see time fly with the rolly on
sort of like a blood and crip, mixed with the corleone
south african warrior blood, in my veins
with them y-o, warrior bars, in my brains
with a tormented soul
’til all my n-ggas roll with the cars, and the gold, and the money to grow old
[hook: styles p]
always a go-down, always a showdown
i’m on an up-and-up, cause n-ggas is low-down
i be f-ckin’ up, pray to god that i slow down
but this the fast life, throw it up if you throw down
always a go-down, always a showdown
i’m on an up-and-up, cause n-ggas is low-down
i be f-ckin’ up, pray to god that i slow down
but this the fast life, throw it up if you throw down
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