Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fondren & Main, artist - Guerilla Maab
Date of issue: 31.12.1998
Song language: English
Fondren & Main |
I’m grabbing grain, in the turning lane |
And I gotta maintain (cause the law behind me) |
I’ve tried to leave the game, I know I need to change |
(I need to resco' again) meet me on Fondren & Main |
I was a superstar at seventeen |
Famous in the ghetto, for working a triple beam |
Somebody told me it was destiny, for me to suffer |
Cause when the going gets rough, it only gets rougher |
I had to make a quick change from Lunchables, and a spot on the bus |
To eating at Papadeauxx everyday, and a Suburban with bump |
I got the game from my partna, but all he told me was Ro |
Before you get your |
Feet wet partna, you better be sho |
If you get caught it’s Penitentiary time |
Understand |
Fronted me nine, and now we got the hottest on the van |
My grandmother knew what it was doing, because my pockets stuck out |
And plus |
She told me I love you, but get your shit out my house |
All I ever wanted to do, was just shine a little |
Bump and grind a little, and then recline a little |
Trying to protain, lavish have it like the H.A.W.K |
You need another zone then I’m on my way, because I’m trapped in the game |
Well I done came from crumbs to bricks |
While I’m hustling up in the city streets |
On the block of Fondren and Main, coppers know where the killas be |
When I get out I’m gonna make me a change |
The whole situation, seemed a bit strange |
Everybody wanna die, somebody brain |
Dougie D, trying to collect a little change |
And grip the grain, swang turning lanes |
With a whole bunch of hoes, yelling out my name |
Pop trunk open wide, up in down South mayn |
And when I work the wood, I lean on maintain |
Or put it on your brain, ain’t worried bout a damn thang |
Without leaving this shit, and everybody need to change |
But plus again, ain’t worried bout a damn thang |
Set up shop, up on Fondren and Main |
I wish I was the one with the top down |
In a chromed out Benz, with all my friends |
Bank account, with unlimited ends |
Gripping, I ain’t sweating the rent |
The only problem is, I’m a FED fella |
With no intentions on, taking a loss |
And everytime I see the law, my heart pauses |
Riding dirty, everytime I’m flossing |
I got tossed in the game, at a early age |
Trying to push pounds and tons |
Looking for fortune and fame |
Through the smoke of my Mary Jane |
Trying to control the game |
Instead of trying to find another way to stay paid |
I was stuck at a materialistic stage |
Now I have a piece and chain, with expensive shades |
Trying to resco' again, now I got two chances |
I could pay the cost, and everyone they take a loss |
So when the laws come, shake em off |
Headed for the border man, I’m making it cross |
Or I could break off a tight job, and do it right this time |
Is you crazy baby, I gots to grind |