Lyrics Lost with Guns - Tyrese, J. Wells, Nicole Wray

Lost with Guns

Black Ty and Nicole Wray got something to say man
Lets go
It ain’t worth it man just put that shit down
I know you wanna hold me down but it ain’t that serious man
Let me talk to you for a minute
Listen
I applaud you for being the breadwinner of the family
I applaud you for beating on niggas who couldn’t stand me
I applaud you for being who you be to the block
But i dont care too much for niggas holdin' the Glock
Broke be the reason that you wearing them shoes
Broke be the reason you say fuck the rules
Broke be the reason that you get that urge
Broke be the reason that you flippin them birds
Manhood be the reason the reason that you carry the Glock
Manhood be the reason that you rob the spot
Manhood be the reason I keep stealing these cars
Manhood be the reason I’m behind these bars
I talk to God all the time but he never talk back
So I’m forced to communicate with these guns and crack
I refuse to crack even though I’m at a all time low
Lemme drink a 5th of courage and rob a store
But what’s in store for a nigga with a quick come-up
Thats why you gotta put the guns up
State of mind got you running wild
I see you lost your confidence in your one-two punch
Thats why you running around lost with guns (Sing to 'em)
You’re just lost with guns (You're just lost)
Now if the shoe fits, wear it dont take it off yet
And i ain’t made it through the song yet
A couple blunts will make it go away temporarily
Soon as it fades away i drink a fifth of Hennessy
I think its fucked up that reality has got the best of me
I’m praying i dont have to wake up (?)
My homies ain’t there my mom ain’t there my pops ain’t there
Because nobody cares
They quick to blame a nigga for all the guns and violence
But ain’t no one around to give a nigga some guidance
Throughout childhood they told me i needed to make money
But as i grew up they didn’t teach me to keep money
So i made a little money and i lost a little bread
Might pay for some pussy might pay for some head
I keep a bag of lyrical carrots to help you niggas see straight
Hopefully the words of the song can get you out your old ways
If not i feel bad for you
Yeah im talkin to you i feel bad for you
Listen you be you because you can’t be me
Im done rolling 30 deep they tryna Mc Hammer me
Im an MC born into the heat of the streets
And ill be damned if i let a motherfucker hammer me
Tattoed be the city of Watts on my left wrist
I know a few niggas who’ll watch when i slice that wrist
They tell me life’s a bitch and supposedly you die and go to heaven
I was ordained to be an mc code 211
I saw my first MAC-11 at 11
A basehead was beggin for my triple o kevin
I see my nextel chirp got the federralli’s listenin'
I keep my head cocked by my cock be the position
Man I’m living in fear Mama told me bullets got no names
Because of bullets no more Biggie, Pac, and Jam Master Jay
I know you think you bout as hard as they come
If i was you i would run because we running around lost with guns
Maybe someday you’ll sit back and laugh and talk about the change
How you ain’t the same
Gotta live with regrets but for now hood niggas
Come up out the game all our victims are slain
Dont you be lost with gunz (x5)