Lyrics Thug Muzik - Termanology, H Blanco, Ea$y Money

Thug Muzik

I don’t wanna go, I don’t, I don’t wanna go
I want my soul to live forever like Geronimo
Product of this environment, shit where I’ma go?
They throw me in with the lions, we gon' put on a show
All I know is supplyin' 'em with the dusted flow
This shit I spit be wet, nigga, Pappadeaux
More shootings and students that’s killin' little kids
This might be the antichrist, I don’t trust a thing
Niggas now don’t value life and die over bling
Niggas now don’t run through life so they’d rather sing
Shit, I want a knife like the Book of Eli
I’m Denzel, watchin' these niggas fill the masses with lies
This why people kill people and go eye for an eye
Way before great Biggie Smalls, they’ve been ready to die
Premeditate that moment when they see their foe
And treat 'em like paper targets, fill 'em with holes
Know where I’ve been and know what I’ve seen and
Not a thing can keep me from hustlin'
Never look down, keep on movin' ahead
Flyin' on high, no need to settle in
The streets on fire, four murders in the weekend
Ain’t nobody snitchin' cause they don’t want it to be them
The world’s corrupt, suckerpunch a cop and he’s sure to bust
Stuff him and he’ll murder you, look what happened in Ferguson
Hands up, don’t shoot, they ain’t tellin' the whole truth
The whole world sleepin' and shit, so you can see the proof
Usin' their iPhones as video recorders
Channel 5 from the corners, we’re like ghetto reporters
My homie came through with a Smith N in his hand
He just snatched another chain, put the picture on the 'gram
It’s no fucks given anymore
You get robbed bareface front of the camera just to make an example
I grew up like the regular thug, on the run, eatin'
Every weekend I’m sittin' at gang meetings
My cousin’s gettin' shot, we runnin', duckin' from cops
Man it ain’t a fuckin' thing, you can’t tell me about the block
I know you hate to hear the drama, but drama’s all we know
Another night twisted, breakin' the law for dough
More 4s to blow, never cut it, tryna score some blow
Itchin', tryna find a purer snow
The block’s hot when it’s 4 below
Another discouraged brotha hustlin' cause of that choreo
Another hood rat tryna trap a nigga at the Maury show
Seems bugged but that’s the world we know
Sometimes I sit and reflect, and I can’t remember
How many times I was supposed to be a gang member
But wasn’t takin' orders from someone of the same gender
The point guard with the big niggas that played center
Shot called it, I pop all you
My nigga you was on them blocks order
Never put in work and got caught up
No more postin' with the Glocks on corners to pop 'em on yah
I transform the easy to hip-hop performer
We’re just thuggin' it out for you
We’re just thuggin' it out for you
We’re just thuggin' it out for you
We’re just thuggin' it out for you
Thug music