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Clika One
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Stress (feat. Frost)
Stressful day and stressful nights It's big bad ass Clika gang Just to put it down, for the year 2 G's Hopin' to God, to let me Live, for my kids (That's right) I've seen enough, since Do Or Die I realized to change directions Through my buddha high Through my depressions I'm asking questions, through the lessons Hoping to get it on, and hit the bong, we rest It's ghetto buddha blessin' See, fuck with coke, went to the pen But then again, I see the reasons That we had, to get it in But now, we look for, better friends A better life, I'm livin' in Scene causes drama, but my mom She says it makes us better men We use mistakes to take us Cause life's a blast, keep it on safety Cause it's better safe, wastin' ya life Just hopin' for the rain There is no way in life But then it came, I heard someone say 'Even though things was hard I was givin' a blessin' from God Destined to be a star' When blessed, homie protected I'm loco when I'm stressin' Smokin' on some weed (Weed) Sippin' on the bottle (Bottle) I'm happy just to breathe (You think they don't know) Smokin' on some weed (Weed) Sippin' on the bottle (Bottle) I'm happy just to breathe (True, sho') Smokin' on some weed (Weed) Sippin' on the bottle (Bottle) I'm happy just to breathe (They don't care about what's going on) Smokin' on some weed (Weed) Sippin' on the bottle (Bottle) I'm happy just to breathe (To breathe) For ten years now, I been in the game Still suckers out there, tryin' to shame my name Cock back the revolver Up in this bitch for financial gain, shit Tell me that money don't grow on trees It does when you break it down to pounds of ki's And a man conecta, overseas Me and the Clika doin' dirt Bitch made hoes off showing skirts Left for dead with their feelings hurt Motherfuckers out there, look to top the game A shit, when it lit, but it ain't no thang Together, locotes, they love to bang Little nuts can't compare, to the ones, that hang So little G's learn, what the O.G.'s teach you Whatever you do, don't let the cold G's reach you Stay strapped with the gat in ya lap In the 'Llac, cause they motherfuckers out to beat you The money, the power, the pussy for us The reason I'm a (?) cuete can't rust Is I don't know when I'm a, have to bust I stay strapped with my, bulletproof vest Thinkin' that they tryin' to put me to rest Hit me hard, between the chest But I got a, little kid to look after Then my child'll be a bastard Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com We willin' in dealin' and chillin' like villians And thuggin' and luggin' and constantly clubbin' We mobbin' and robbin' and slangin' the chronic My shit is the bombest, when it make you vomit So take you a strong hit Roll it or toke it, I'll loan you a bong hit I'll hold it the longest Til I'm black and I'm blue, and I look like a zombie My lyrics'll teach you, we crazy ass people To anyone rappin', we tossin' it up Load a .40 in the stress, the boys doing gecko They learnin' they lesson, they takin' the pressure The reason I'm rappin', to bring you the message My wrong and my rights, can't live with regrets Two blunts when the tears fall, buried Homies are pouring out beer So light a fat leno and howl at the moon We getting fucked up til the day of the doom From the womb to the tomb, from Burke to Cali From Vegas to Dallas, the north and south alley If my dad was alive, then I know he'd be proud of me Hauling the rats, with this lyrical slaughter me Those who forgotten me, never be part of me Step out the nuts and just back the fuck off The big baddest Clika and Mr. Bigg Frost I'll walk til I rot and I'll die for the cause I lived as a bastard, I'll blast if I have to A thug with a passion, with manic depression Lord, could you please, just send me a blessin' I'm down on my knees and I'm sort of like stressin' Attacking the bitch with a mack in a back In a mob lab, I'm out to mackin' 'em up With a gun, bub, motherfucker, trust me Respect the name, before we test your name And gangbang on your motherfuckin' homies A homie once told me, 'Never trust a ho Cause that bitch is a motherfuckin' phony' Got to put it down for the homies, in the low-low's With the .44's, drinking 40's And all the shaved heads know me, O.G.'s To the young ones with the guns Buckin', smokin' somethin', fussin' Everyday hustlin', to them busters Lyrical gang bangs we floss on 'em Hit 'em in the body with a bomb on 'em Mad dawg ain't fin to run up on the bomb And let the twelve gauge do the talkin' You walkin' a thin line, do or die, ridin' high Throwin' up a sign when you ridin' by These motherfuckers must be ready to die With that chrome .45 to the side And this life is a God damn shame But the game, it still remains the same And some of your daddies, they gangbanged in the 80's Comin' through the same thangs To movin' them thangs, regardless of pain Been out for the fame, monetary gain Through the car and rain We maintain, and quick to take aim To blow out your fuckin' brains Anybody's insane, when needed Facin' our enemies weeded The nine millimenter, you need me, sent you to sin Days that we livin' in, so I'm smoked out Don't need no more stress in my life (Stress in my life...)
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