Pain

Trae tha Truth & Philthy Rich & J. Stalin - Rap
Pain
2 Plays
Duration: 4:09
Lyrics
[Verse 1: Trae tha Truth] Sitting in hell's den watching murder like a show on Shot em in cold blood like he was beefing with the snow on He ain't really deserve it but that's life and that must go on Praying we get it right, knowing some how that we gon' go wrong It ain't no point of being real when everybody joking Niggas hit the corner with cheese, now everybody smoking Probably to numb away the pain from a deeper wound Sick of singing blue so they move into a deeper tune 15 for the stripes, he ain't fighting shit He bout that fireworks, self-employed how he lighting shit Realizing if he get caught he gon' be kitin shit Plus he told the DEA, fuck a statement, he ain't writing shit Lil nigga nuts hanging like elephantitis Devil got the key and I'll bet he just waiting to ignite us It's all the same, where I'm from tell em it's west up Where niggas lose their life for disrespect, niggas so fist up [Verse 2: Philthy Rich] I say he used to be the man, now he's begging for a gram $2 ass nigga can't lend a helping hand Yeah he used to be good, he had to work for the jug He turned his back on his niggas and went and state on the hood That statement can't take back, regret that he made that Sat down in trial and that recorded tape, they played that No eye contact now, but I used to look up to him I used to wanna be just like him, now I just spite him Snitching ain't condoned, even to my closest kin Yeah I'm getting money now and I was getting money then Just still popping off, ain't nothing boring in the hood Sin city money man I'm whipping foreigns through the hood Times done changed, BG's now OG's Used to be 25, damn near 40 for the ki Better outlook at life, better know how to cook the white Soft to the hard, hard niggas turning soft [Verse 3: J. Stalin] My-my lil nigga lost his twin and I know he hurt Cast a dark cloud over the whole west Crackers wouldn't even let him out to go and pay respect Last month I seen a good nigga get put to rest Tryna do my best to hold back the tears Cause if you living up in Oakand, you living in fear Nigga we break the homicide record every year I don't know what you looking for but love don't live here It's crack babies selling crack around here Them lil niggas is strapped so hear me loud and clear Ain't nothing but dope fiends, bums and red rum You ain't got a gun, better run when them niggas come Pray to God I wake up every morning, get to see the sun My niggas is dying, chasing money by the tons I'm tryna smoke away the pain but I'm killing my lungs My brother gone, now it's on me to teach his son
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Credits
- Writers
- DJ Fresh (USA)
- J. Stalin
- Philthy Rich
- Trae tha Truth