Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hope I Don't Violate, artist - Baby Bash.
Date of issue: 16.05.2011
Song language: English
Hope I Don't Violate |
Yeah |
Uh, you know, we always hope we do the right thang |
Tryin' to do my thang |
With my momma up in heaven |
Hope I don’t violate |
Father and the reverend |
I hope I don’t violate |
Nino, where my nina |
Hope I don’t violate |
Primo, where my primas |
Hope I don’t violate |
The bomb mamacitas |
Hope I don’t violate |
All my homeys smokin' reifer |
Hope I don’t violate |
All my nephews and my nieces |
Hope I don’t violate |
We gon' leave it up to Jesus |
I hope I don’t violate |
Man, I’m fresh out of jail, hope I don’t violate |
But I’m back smokin', so you know my style’s great |
I’m wet (Wet) |
So I’m drippin' like a faucet |
Leaky through the track with stunt-tastics, I don’t floss it (Wow) |
Proceed with caution, slow your role |
But I can’t see that option, it’s all I know |
Say I’m, Pollo Loco, but I’m crazy for the chicken |
Tryin' to get my hands on you, and the beef get to kickin' (Ha) |
Yeah, I’m tryin' to stay out, the mix though |
Cause every once in a while, they get to get low |
Kick those, hun, tryin' to get dough |
Whoever dead, is gettin' laid out, fa' sho |
The final callin', here we go, yes y’all’in |
I’m tryin' to stay high while them niggas steady ballin' |
Two times for my G’s that never come back |
Hopin' I can see you one time, when I touch back |
Now if they ask about me, tell them, «Real cochino» |
I’m from the L.V.C., real Latino |
I’m in the hood (Hood) |
Just tryin' to feed my family |
But I ain’t doin' good (Uh) |
I hope you understand me |
I’m in it, real thick (Thick) |
What should I do, fool |
Big Ronnie sick (Sick) |
I’m hopin' he gon' pull through |
I’m 'bout to take a ride (Ride) |
And jump real deep in the game |
Since my grandma died, I swear we just ain’t been the same |
I bought a one-way ticket, with alcohol flowin' |
Not even knowin' where I’m goin' |
Just out here tryin' to make it (Make it) |
Do every thing but fake it (Fake it) |
Stress on my mind (Mind) |
It’s so hard to take it |
I’m back on the grind (Grind) |
Just look for the guero |
You think I’ll ever find (Find) |
A way up out the ghetto |
I take another sip (Sip) |
As both eyes dialate |
I hear my kids cry (Cries) |
Hope I don’t violate |
Now I’m losing all my patience, punk violations got me geeking |
Everytime I’m on feet, seem like, the po’s creepin' |
Ain’t sleepin', Playamade Mexican eatin' |
Should I put on my math and start the trick-o-treatin' |
Hell naw |
My primo told me, «Shut that down» |
They got a pound of the grape, get off, by the ounce |
On the G.O., my P.O. |
is a dickhead twerp |
Yeah, he a jerk and love to cock block work |
And my next door neighbor, yeah, he got that way |
In the trunk of his Cadillac, 24 K’s |
And I’m tryin' to get that gwhop like twenty-four days |
Need a solid gold bitch like 24K |
And I ain’t got a job, can I catch me a break |
Ain’t got no shrimp, and ain’t got to steak |
From the AM to the PM, rockin' the colloseum |
Then smokin' with B-Legit, in the what, Head Museum |