Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Home, artist - BJ The Chicago Kid.
Date of issue: 18.02.2016
Song language: English
Home |
Uh, Lebron number nine |
I guess whenever she ain’t on my dick, I’m on her mind |
It’s quite cliche to just say that I’m on my grind |
And phone conversations ain’t substitution for time in another city |
Reminisce on days when I ain’t have a fucking penny |
These groupie bitches in this game wasn’t fucking with me |
Couldn’t get a dollar for a rap show |
Got a gun, a ski mask and a half an ounce of crack, though |
Slammin', in the pizza shop with Jacque |
Last dollar on a slice, this contraband in my sock, wish you knew the feeling |
We’re both so different, but our situations so appealing |
Now I can’t make it without you girl, you my new religion |
And every hustler needs a main thing |
Baby, once I get it I’mma make your last name change |
Uh, said every hustler needs a main thing |
Baby, once I get it I’mma make your last name change |
Gibbs, uh |
We still socking |
Glock is still popping |
Paper still dropping |
Lord, it ain’t stopping |
Girl, I’m coming home, as soon as I get this paper |
Yeah, the blocks still cracking, and girl, know what I’m packing |
And if you pop off, you gon' know what I’m jacking |
But I’m coming home, as soon as I get this paper |
Ayo, summertime, 105° |
Getting mine, the smoke line |
They want the kush, the Cali kind |
I smoke with' her, I choke with' it, get dosed with' her |
A go-getter, helped me come up from a broke nigga |
The home team |
And she ain’t just in my pocket, she got her own cream |
Sometimes I slip at the mouth, I might say the wrong thing |
And once we fight, it’s back to fucking |
My polos and my timbos out the window, but its nothin, what |
Uh, said once we fight, it’s back to fucking |
I bend that ass right over on the sofa, like it’s nothing |
So bust it open for a player, nose to your fucking toes |
I’m coming home, don’t be tripping on them other hoes |