Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Cradle To The Grave, artist - Thug Life. Album song Thug Life: Volume 1, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1993
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Interscope
Song language: English
Cradle To The Grave |
From the cradle to the grave |
Life ain’t never been easy |
Livin' in the ghetto |
From the cradle to the grave |
Life ain’t never been easy |
June 16th, 1971 |
Mama gave birth to a hell-raisin' heavenly son |
See, the doctor tried to smack me, but I smacked him back |
My first words was, «Thug for life!» |
and «Papa, pass the MAC!» |
I’m bustin' on these motherfuckers ballin' |
Listen, you can hear my mini fourteen callin' |
From out the window of my drop top |
I got my Glock cocked, bustin' at niggas; |
when will it stop? |
Now, tell me, are you scared of the dark? |
Can’t close my eyes, I see visions |
And even with this thug livin', will I escape prison? |
Penitentiary chances was an all day thang |
The only way to advance; |
and if you slang |
Then you’d better have your Nikes on, ‘cause when we fight, it’s in the middle |
of the night with no lights on |
Hey! |
There must be a God, ‘cause I feel lucky |
Paranoid, out my mind, ‘cause motherfuckers tryin' to rush me |
Am I goin' to jail? |
Look at me bailin' |
Comin' out the court house, all about my mail and bank |
Never die, I’ll be a hustler, motherfuckers |
Makin' thugs out you suckers, from the cradle to the grave |
From the cradle to the grave |
Life ain’t never been easy |
Livin' in the ghetto |
From the cradle to the grave, since a little bitty child |
I’ve been known to get ill and kinda buck wild |
Pop pop! |
Just like the part that’s in my walk with street talk |
I’m runnin' up the block in the dark where lead spark |
Surveillance on a nigga every day |
Waitin on my daddy just to take his ass away |
Now Mama always workin', tryin' to make ends meet |
So now a young nigga’s being raised by the streets |
And then the only other one that ever showed me love |
Was my dope fiend uncle, strung out on drugs |
A straight thug, just me, my mama out here on our own |
So I got two gats, one black and one of chrome |
Now, I don’t wanna hurt nobody, but I must defend mine |
It’s all the fuck I got, so stop and walk a thin line |
Young niggas be brave |
And keep on thuggin' from the cradle to the grave |
From the cradle to the grave |
Life ain’t never been easy |
Livin' in the ghetto |
From the cradle to the grave, I’m glad to say I made it this far |
Many G’s died, hogs |
And all they got was they name hit up on a wall |
It’s sad thinkin' about the times, life goes on |
I’m steady lost in this land, that’s the war zone |
I gots no home, don’t have no friends neither |
It’s just me by my lonely, so I married my Nina |
I keeps her wherever I go, I love my ho |
Never leave home without my sugar, I’ma have to plug a nigga |
Mama told me not to trust no punks |
And kick his ass if he lay a hand on me |
Since then I been knowin' |
Sometimes I think my own self stupid |
‘Cause I stay shootin' at marks |
Get twisted up in police reports |
Since the cradle, I’ve been ungrateful |
My first toy was a gun |
I got sprung and learned to love weapons |
But now I’m through with money |
And through with street fame |
Somebody peeled my cap, and put me in my grave |
From the cradle to the grave |
Life ain’t never been easy |
Livin' in the ghetto |
March 18th, a rainy day my mama gave birth |
To a baby boy trapped in Hell on Earth |
From day one it wasn’t fun, I never had a crumb |
Daddy worked two jobs and Mama won’t stop drinkin' rum |
I tried to cope, loc, but my family’s broke |
And my pocket’s short, so now I got ta slang dope |
In the game filled with pain, it’s a fuckin' shame |
The white man got a motherfucker slangin' 'caine |
So now it’s on from dusk to dawn, I’m gettin' my serve on |
Always in the spot with my Glock, slingin' rocks at the Rox |
The shit don’t stop, I’m steady dodgin' cops |
I never flip-flop, hear my Glock cock, thug 'til I drop |
And if I hit the pen, I gotta do my time |
Sittin' on my bunk, reminiscin' 'bout the good times |
It’s fucked up a nigga gotta grow up doin' dirt |
But from the cradle to the grave I’ma put in work |
From the cradle to the grave |
Life ain’t never been easy |
Livin' in the ghetto |
Time’s movin' fast; |
will I last another day? |
So I pray and I lay with my AK |
Did I sell my soul as a young kid? |
All the things I did |
Wishin' someone held me, but they never did |
I can’t take it; |
will I make it to my older age |
Before I’m shot up or locked up in a fuckin' cage? |
Lord, help me, guide me, save me! |
‘Cause that’s the way that Daddy raised me: crazy |
Do or die, nigga, pull the trigger, don’t give a fuck |
You’d rather be in jail than get yo' ass bucked |
Nobody cares, it’s me against the world |
Keepin' murder on my mind and my TEC-9 |
I got nothin' to lose, payin' dues, nigga, you wanna die? |
I get high and then my mission is a walk-by |
You’d better jet when I hit your set, ‘cause I’m comin' |
Start runnin', yellin' «evil mind» as I’m gunnin' |
One in the chamber, for the anger that I build inside |
For the mothers that cried, for my homies that died |
The beginnin' is an endin', am I just a slave? |
So I got to be brave, from the cradle to the grave |
From the cradle to the grave |
Life ain’t never been easy |
Livin' in the ghetto |