Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Still Throwed, artist - Lil Keke. Album song Teflon, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 01.08.2005
Record label: Seven 13
Song language: English
Still Throwed |
Ok, late night grinding |
Understand, Young Don in the building |
Of course, a nigga still throwed with it |
C.M.G. |
for life, Teflon feel it |
I’ve been told I can’t do it, mostly all my life |
I done crapped plenty times, but kept shooting the dice |
You don’t work and don’t eat, it’s a sacrifice |
That’s why niggas go to jail, and they turn to mice |
Eat steaks and kool-aid, not no water and rice |
And my family live good, cause we paid the price |
Could you still be a rapper, without no ice |
I was born with a gift, that’s why I flow so nice |
I’m a two-time felon, so I fucked up twice |
So I switched up my game, not to get three strikes |
No I can’t win 'em all, but I done won some fights |
And I still smoke weed, on my sleepless nights |
Why niggas acting like, they don’t know wrong from right |
And why they steady trying to ball, when they money is tight |
I’ma peel niggas back, when they good and ripe |
Cause they just a bunch of talk, trying to find some hype |
I know I’m thoed with it, and I ain’t gon let 'em change my mind |
A kid writing raps, turning nickels into dimes |
I been thoed with it, but they steady talking down |
Continue dropping hits, till it’s my motherfucking time |
Still thoed with it, won’t these haters let me shine |
I’m hungry for the title, close it up and give me mine |
So thoed with it, like it’s all brand new |
Represent for Houston Texas, my niggas that’s what it do |
Niggas screaming in the background, fuck Lil' Ke |
But when I see 'em in the streets, they start copping a plea |
I give a fat rat’s ass, what they say bout me |
And my mama told me, Jesus the only thang that’s free |
Still thoed with it, cause what’s real gon be real |
And rapping ain’t a hobby or a game, it’s a feel |
I’m puffing on the purple, letting the smoke hit my throat |
Letting the pen hit the pad, then it’s murder he wrote |
Got a candy coat, it put my slab on note |
With them suicide do’s, and them 84 spokes |
Here’s a message boy, from a Texas boy |
C.M.G. |
is the truth, you’ll be breathless boy |
Don’t even test us boy, never charging shit |
All I’m saying is I’m grown, don’t make me kill ya bitch |
So excuse my french, but niggas do get lynched |
And my team wins game, in the motherfucking trench |