Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Eastside Story, artist - G Herbo. Album song Strictly 4 My Fans, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 24.11.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: 150 Dream Team, Machine Entertainment Group
Song language: English
Eastside Story |
Ay, G Herbo, this a real Eastside story right here man |
RIP them niggas, hah |
Used to ride the front of the bus now I’m in the back of the Bach |
Nigga this that Maybach, remember way back, I was trapping and strapped |
This was back when Lil Roc stay with Titi an I start fucking with Cap |
G-Mo was in the trap, used to give me dap, before I was fucking with rap |
I met Kobe on the five, we was Mike’d down in '05 |
Girbauds and spray painted shirts |
Now big bro own one of mine |
Wake up, money on my mind |
Think bout fonem all the time |
Back when Grams lived on the four |
First floor, 7405 |
Vito stayed on the other side |
Him and Hill real running wild |
WIth Chico and probably smoking dro |
8 bucks for a pound of loud |
Used to leave for school, lil blac on chico nem porch all the time |
Fuck with OGs off the five |
Shorties and shit just wasn’t my crowd |
Foe nem fucking up the wheel |
I ran bouchet, ain’t fuck with powell |
That was grade school by the way, we been them niggas all this time |
Acting East headed for the rap, damn near still know all the rhymes |
Five to nine, yates back to colfax terrortown was on the map |
Niggas know there ain’t a bitch we ain’t fucked, taking hoes back |
Used to do pelly coats with the screw back |
Chrome buck 50, matched the new gat |
Leather (?) with the wheat timbs |
Fazo had one that was blue black |
G Fazo, no need to say more |
Punch so hard, make you wanna shoot back |
Shawty off MB don’t do that |
Fuck that, I ain’t even wanna talk about it |
Miss all my niggas, white chalk about 'em |
Naw they ain’t like us, niggas bitch made |
Lil nigga, big gun, that was Lil Gage |
Fucked up, lil bro was lil sis age |
Made 1800 on a good day |
«You gon end up dead or broke |
Or in jail like your dad and uncle,» shit, that’s what the hood say |
Might as well sell dope, rob, steal anything tryna stay afloat |
I’m on point like an arrow |
Aim the Glock like PeeWee, tell the opp, «hello» |
Got smoke like Dero, remember walking down Marquette, me and G Ferro |
Hoodied up if we got to blow |
Still fuck the opps crazy, RIP Alamo |
79th Street raised me, some of my niggas since babies |
No Limit crazy |
Remember nights off the lazy |
Mom’s telling me to slow down, steady tryna persuade me |
I was deep in the streets, she calling and getting no sleep |
Scared for her baby |
I was running the east |
Turning into Herbo G |
The big humble beast, ay |