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- Concrete
Testo Concrete
Testo Concrete
[Verse 1:]
I was threw in the game with a shield and a sword
Started havin money, buyin things I used to couldn't afford
At the beginning of my mannishness I was the mannishest
I bought a nickel-plated.45th
Falcons, Granadas, Caddies and Fairlanes
Chevy Impalas, Cutlass and Mustangs
Donkey rolls, jewerly like a pharaoh Troop jackets, d-boy apparel
Hop, weed, speed, coke, whatever you need
Knew how to add and subtract but barely can read
No, I can't - Yes, I did - No, I didn't
Either gon' be dead or successful or emprisoned
Triple beam scale, I was flippin the goup
Hella clientele, I was gettin my loot
Concrete, I ain't made of feathers
Tear shit up just like some angry protesters
[Chorus:]
I come from the streets
Where they play for keeps
The strong and the weak
Gotta be concrete Concrete
I'm from the streets
Where every day they leak
Ambulance and police
Gotta be concrete
Concrete
[Verse 2:]
He started off fast, ran out of gas, but he was winnin at first
What you call a person like that? A quarter horse
Entered the game and can't run a lap, a t-tortoise
That's domino talk, mayne, you mack - O-of course
You still in the game? Nah, we divorced
You make any change? No remorse
He full of shit just like a porter potty
His hustle game sloppy, triggered off on them boppies
I'm from what's right, maybe that's what's wrong
That's what I was just tellin my little homie on the phone
Be a leader not a follower
If you will be a follower, follow the right leader
Stop thinkin with your peter
My peter? Yeah, your dick
Why? A chick'll get you hit
Keep your eye on the sparrow
Get cornered and ambushed, they'll limit your space, your space is narrow
[Chorus]
[Verse 3:]
He put his foot where his mouth is - good riddance
Gunned him down in the drive-through of Kentucky Fried Chicken
They wasn't gangbangin, but they was set-trippin
Ate him up real good, but he still livin
The victim's parent's lawyer on the case for real
Tryina put the nigga that did it behind bars to make him pay they doctor's bill
But the shooter a monster, he hella feared
So ain't nobody talkin, listen here
And not only that, but the victim don't want nobody sayin nothin anyway
Because when he get out and get his shit together
He gon' put them niggas under the weather
When it comes to feudin and funkin gotta be clever
Beef and commotion and drastic measures
From the top of my head to the bottom of my feet
I don't know about you, but I'm a stay concrete
Biatch
[Chorus]
I was threw in the game with a shield and a sword
Started havin money, buyin things I used to couldn't afford
At the beginning of my mannishness I was the mannishest
I bought a nickel-plated.45th
Falcons, Granadas, Caddies and Fairlanes
Chevy Impalas, Cutlass and Mustangs
Donkey rolls, jewerly like a pharaoh Troop jackets, d-boy apparel
Hop, weed, speed, coke, whatever you need
Knew how to add and subtract but barely can read
No, I can't - Yes, I did - No, I didn't
Either gon' be dead or successful or emprisoned
Triple beam scale, I was flippin the goup
Hella clientele, I was gettin my loot
Concrete, I ain't made of feathers
Tear shit up just like some angry protesters
[Chorus:]
I come from the streets
Where they play for keeps
The strong and the weak
Gotta be concrete Concrete
I'm from the streets
Where every day they leak
Ambulance and police
Gotta be concrete
Concrete
[Verse 2:]
He started off fast, ran out of gas, but he was winnin at first
What you call a person like that? A quarter horse
Entered the game and can't run a lap, a t-tortoise
That's domino talk, mayne, you mack - O-of course
You still in the game? Nah, we divorced
You make any change? No remorse
He full of shit just like a porter potty
His hustle game sloppy, triggered off on them boppies
I'm from what's right, maybe that's what's wrong
That's what I was just tellin my little homie on the phone
Be a leader not a follower
If you will be a follower, follow the right leader
Stop thinkin with your peter
My peter? Yeah, your dick
Why? A chick'll get you hit
Keep your eye on the sparrow
Get cornered and ambushed, they'll limit your space, your space is narrow
[Chorus]
[Verse 3:]
He put his foot where his mouth is - good riddance
Gunned him down in the drive-through of Kentucky Fried Chicken
They wasn't gangbangin, but they was set-trippin
Ate him up real good, but he still livin
The victim's parent's lawyer on the case for real
Tryina put the nigga that did it behind bars to make him pay they doctor's bill
But the shooter a monster, he hella feared
So ain't nobody talkin, listen here
And not only that, but the victim don't want nobody sayin nothin anyway
Because when he get out and get his shit together
He gon' put them niggas under the weather
When it comes to feudin and funkin gotta be clever
Beef and commotion and drastic measures
From the top of my head to the bottom of my feet
I don't know about you, but I'm a stay concrete
Biatch
[Chorus]
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