Songtext zu 'Round The Corner (feat. Trae Tha Truth)' von CyHi The Prynce

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Round The Corner (feat. Trae Tha Truth) ist ein Lied von CyHi The Prynce, dessen Text unzählige Suchanfragen hat, deshalb haben wir entschieden, dass es seinen Platz auf dieser Webseite verdient, zusammen mit vielen anderen Liedtexten, die Internetnutzer kennenlernen möchten.

[Intro:]
We did it all around the corner, 'round the corner, 'round the corner
We did it all around the corner, 'round the corner, 'round the corner
We did it all around the corner, 'round the corner, 'round the corner
We did it all around the corner, 'round the corner, 'round the corner

[Verse 1: CyHi The Prynce]
That's where I sold my first sack
Where mama's get they purse snatched and niggas get they dirt naps
They merk rats, church slacks, hearse slacks
You either jack or serve packs, standin' on this curb, black
But I was just a sellin' herb cat
Drove some work to Texas, dropped it off and caught the bird back
That's why my nerves bad – 'cause I've been shot at
Bitch, I'm like a pan 'cause I'm always where the pot at
Never sold no yams, but I know some niggas that buy that
Like a marine through Decatur, bet some paper he'll fly back
To Iraq
I'll see a stack off a pound, that's a iRack
I hope you niggas got that
I'm from Atlanta, boy, everybody got gats
Run up in your trap and make everybody lie flat
The same place you supply at, be the same place you die at
A lot of my homies never made it to where I'm at, 'cause

[Hook:]
Some niggas sold weed, some niggas sold hard
Some of my folks robbed and we stole cars
We did it all around the corner, 'round the corner, 'round the corner
We did it all around the corner, 'round the corner, 'round the corner
I hit my first blunt, I fucked my first broad
This is where I hit my lick and caught my first charge
We did it all around the corner, 'round the corner, 'round the corner
We did it all around the corner, 'round the corner, 'round the corner

[Verse 2: Trae The Truth]
Same place I got my first stripes at
Murderville, get your whole life jacked
Teach you hot to turn money to a white pack
Hit the penitentiary and come right back
Fuck up and get your whole dope knocked off
Same block fat, head got chopped off
Same niggas that you played with back then
Will fill you up with the bullets from a sawed-off
Se me, I ain't fuck with them niggas
I learned from my brother that got hit with life
Around the same time that my niggas got murdered
The same week I went to a funeral twice
I caught Hell in the worst of ways
I'm in the game makin' perfect plays
The block flood, I'll surf for days
Drought time, it was thirst for days
I'm in the hood in my first pair of Jordan's
Flyer than a plane, you could tell if I was boardin'
Bitches watchin' a nigga like somethin' they recorded
Bricks all in the garage like I was hoardin'
It was murder like 48 Hours
Truth got filleted like 48 salmons
They told me "ain't nothin' like a nigga who's broke"
So I'm tryna get to the money to stack like towers

[Hook]

[Verse 3: CyHi The Prynce]
We was supposed to be playin' football
How'd I end up with all the niggas that cook raw?
'Cause when the hood call, you can't press ignore
Now you got your pistol stashed in your dresser drawer
Prepare for war, shorty, I was never poor
But my mama and my daddy couldn't afford a pair of Jordans
So I went around the corner, got an ounce of marijuana
Had Lithonia in the chokehold, had Stone Mountain in a coma
And we got them pounds if you want 'em
Shop with me, my green is stronger
Back when I had that green Daytona
Or that blue Monte Carlo, had my foot on the throttle
Extended clip in my chopper holds like 200 hollows
Met some dudes from Chicago, Larry Hoover, they follow
They motto is "when you move it, make sure you lookin' for potholes"
And they some real killers, knock the meat out your taco
They did business with Pablo, I'm used to that avocado

[Hook]

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