Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Keys, artist - Soul Position. Album song Things Go Better With Rj And Al, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 02.04.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rhymesayers Entertainment
Song language: English
Keys |
You roll with a bunch of grimey street cats known for packin gats and livin in |
dirt |
They claim they got your backside, but the reality is that they’re quick to |
desert |
Your money ain’t right, and that’s only half the reason your feelings is hurt |
You got robbed last night and found out one of your own cats is stealin your |
work |
And now you wanna kill this jerk, put him in an ambulance quick with a nurse |
Your picturin his body stiff sittin six feet deep layin cold in a hurse |
You want it so bad that you can taste it, and the anticipation is only makin it |
worse |
So you decide to follow him around, you see him in the night club trickin on |
skirts |
You got a dollar to your name and at least 30 more days until the first |
So while you’re in the VIP spittin game you order a long island to quench your |
thirst |
Sit back take two sips, relaxed behind two chicks |
Mad cause you gotta listen to these broads talk about every Tom, Dick, |
and Harry with their loose lips |
You only here for one thing thinkin 'bout the pay back, waitin for this fool to |
dip |
It’s funny how things change, this is the same cat that you went to high school |
with |
Disrespectin you makin you flip, robbin you while he owin you grip |
And you can’t believe this cat had the nerve to try to sell it back to you on |
some brand new shit |
You convinced he ain’t got no sense and he did what he did just to see you flip |
Now you posted in a night club with a nine milli and two clips |
Payin attention to the people that he talks to, especially the chick you see |
him foolin with |
But not really givin a fuck if this chicken head got a family and two kids |
You see 'em leave together, so you tail him to the parking lot to his new whip |
Then you whistle to get his attention thinkin to yourself this motherfucker’s |
stupid |
Didn’t know what hit him till the first few clips, gun clappin off and on to |
the music |
The gun plays a murderous metronome, welcome to the terrordome |
He got caught while he was headin home, never thought for a second you’d ever |
catch him alone |
And now he’s wonderin why he ever robbed you layin on the concrete with lead in |
his dome |
You standin there shakin like a little child with your hands on the chrome |
And everything is for the takin so you snatch his wallet and yank off his hairy |
bone |
You look around and hide the gun, see somebody callin 9−1-1 on a cell phone |
But you still got time to run, make a clean gettaway, and pray the truth will |
never be known |
So you bail into the shadows and make sure that your face is hard to see |
But the chick that he was with in the club saw the whole thing and starts to |
scream |
Your only thought is to flee, so you bail into the parking lot and head across |
the street |
You get inside the ride, look in your pockets so you can start the jeep |
And then it hits you that in the middle of this robbery and homicide you lost |
your keys |
And then it hits you that you’ll probably get the fuckin chair cause you lost |
your keys |