Life of a “G”

Lyrics

I keep my hand on my gun City of the 2-1-3 I keep my hand on my gun City of the 2-1-3 [Verse 1: Trouble] Causing so much drama in this vida I live Sometimes it only feels when it's all gonna give And my life will just be took, in the middle of the night From reaction of these faggots, for the fear that I strike Could be a friend or a foe, an ese just don't know But I'm ready for whatever, soon as I step through the door When my cuete's off of safety, that's the life on the road But to me se vale madre cause I'm ready to go And only thing I'm asking dios, is that he's fair with my soul Cause el día que me muera, I'm leaving here with a show And not a tear on my face Espero el día que me llevan and I leave this place Y mi descansó a G Pero perdóname mi jefita for this life that I lead Just I was tempted by the feria, hynas, killers and greed And paranoia got me tripping when I'm out on the street I'm gunning juras and all, this is a dead mans call [Chorus: Toker] I keep my hand on my gun Always watching my back I keep a few clips No matter where I'm at So many putos I've done Juras got me on the run Foos hoping I get cracked ese Cause they can't get none I live a life of a G Putos know about me Grew up in the city of the 2-1-3 All I know is how to do wrong I sleep with my chrome Run up on your ass And put one straight in your dome [Verse 2: Trouble] Feels like I snorted a key, scoping both sides of the street With one hand planted on the wheel The other clutching my heat Cause I refuse to let these putos gun me down in defeat So with just hand on my strap and build a motive in my mente Just to carry out death Especially when I'm on that [?] pisto stinking my breath I get psychotic like a dopefiend off 30 days on that meth Dumping out the driver window, love my 6 double S [?] thrusted on smash These lames ain't ready to clash They fuck around and find they families with their whole necks slashed Or hogtied to the floor with their brains splattered on pavement From that chrome .44 Cause I got nothing to lose And my sole objective is to get these muthafuckers the blues My knuckles battered and bruised From putting holes on they back From making threats they can't accost My state of mind out of wack It's like I'm destined for death Shit even my hyna gets so worried that she sleep in a vest [Chorus: Toker] I keep my hand on my gun Always watching my back I keep a few clips No matter where I'm at So many putos I've done Juras got me on the run Foos hoping I get cracked ese Cause they can't get none I live a life of a G Putos know about me Grew up in the city of the 2-1-3 All I know is how to do wrong I sleep with my chrome Run up on your ass And put one straight in your dome [Verse 3: Trouble] Ain't many routes up out this vida, so I won't live a lie Cause only paths that could be taken, is you find the lord or you die I wake in shivering sweat, envision vatos being blasted Them putos plotting my death Levas laughing cause they thinking they gone take my last breath Until they stuck seeing Jehovah with 6 slugs in they chest And know I'm headed for hell Probably already have demons cleaning out my brimstone cell Cause I ain't repenting for shit So best solution is to open fire And pray to go god that I'm hit And pass in ICU Cause repercussions gone be deadly if I'm making it through And best believe that's a fact Even if it mean I hit the pen And reminisce on the track For all my devilish crime I stay paying with time Even with death around the corner I won't be hard to find You can catch me in the varrio Ese posted all night My mente leery and sick I love to hit a mithafucka, bang then go click [Chorus: Toker] I keep my hand on my gun Always watching my back I keep a few clips No matter where I'm at So many putos I've done Juras got me on the run Foos hoping I get cracked ese Cause they can't get none I live a life of a G Putos know about me Grew up in the city of the 2-1-3 All I know is how to do wrong I sleep with my chrome Run up on your ass And put one straight in your dome City of the 2-1-3 (4x)