Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Wildside, artist - T.I..
Date of issue: 16.12.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Grand hustle
Song language: English
Wildside |
Smoking weed |
Riding chrome |
Only thing I’ve ever known |
Is walk on the wildside |
Welcome to our lives |
Swagging keys |
Spraying K’s |
Every day we getting paid |
To walk on the wildside |
Welcome to our lives |
Come take a little walk with me through my neighborhood |
And come spend a day in my trap |
Get your paper right |
If that yay some good |
But just keep a tool in your lap |
My lil patna holding that work |
Nigga won’t wait we keep around back |
Bet not violate on my turf |
Nigga this the days you a die like that |
(Hey, no) |
Investigation no statements |
No witnesses, we ain’t seen shit |
Pull up after dark |
With that jewelry on |
To come see a bitch |
That way he get it |
We on dark road, with no street lights |
That pistol play after fist fights |
N’em geek monster walk all night |
With they crack pipe trying to get right |
Midnight we shoot dice |
The whole house smell like cooked crack |
You beat me, and you talk shit |
You get shot bitch, and I took that |
Hoodrats on deck, that loud as all I blow |
This shit to you might sound wild |
But this life is all I know |
Smoking weed |
Riding chrome |
Only thing I’ve ever known |
Is walk on the wildside |
Welcome to our lives |
Swagging keys |
Spraying K’s |
Every day we getting paid |
To walk on the wildside |
Welcome to our lives |
(Hey) |
Can you picture me back in 93' |
Bumpin' it out with Dre |
While I hit some weed |
Cut school, make ten G |
Thirteen, trying to get ki |
At fifteen, I was full-grown |
Get wrong, get bust on |
My uncle gave me a bunch of work |
And that shit was gone by the next mornin' |
You wild nigga runnin' with me |
Homicide wasn’t nothin' to us |
Dead body wasn’t nothin' to see |
That pistol play was just fun to us |
I was 19 with two felonies |
One of my best friends have a life sentence |
All my other friends, was just like me |
Had a bunch of partnas no longer living |
All about that cocaine dealing |
And no education, no pot to piss in |
Old school, on chrome wheel |
Windows tinted, pistol hidden |
That’s the shit that I come from |
In my heart, fear ain’t none |
Stand tall, I can’t run from |
That wildside, that I smoke on |
Smoking weed |
Riding chrome |
Only thing I’ve ever known |
Is walk on the wildside |
Welcome to our lives |
Swagging keys |
Spraying K’s |
Every day we getting paid |
To walk on the wildside |
Welcome to our lives |
(Uh) |
(Yeah) |
All I ever did was pit on |
All my old friends tryin' to get on |
So they fell out, makin' dis songs |
Never talk down when I get home |
Ain’t the type of nigga you can shit on |
Unexpose, brick chrome |
Guard body, big bone |
That’s hard body, Jim Jones |
Nigga’s know the sound on how we switch on him |
Finna wild out on a tip song |
Better make a toast, nigga, tip home |
First get the bread, then you get gone |
From the land of the land where they spit chrome |
With most kids never get to live long |
If they pissed off, they get pissed on |
Pistolwhipped and stripped, homie |
Left for a minute and they switched on me |
Caught them talking down, turnin' bitch on me |
And they snitch on me |
They got shit, on me |
So my guess is death is what they wish, on me |
So I’m Blowing on them candles, closed lids and dark eyes |
Kuz hates never part time when you on that wild side |