Bad Luck - Bad Luck lyrics

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Bad Luck - Bad Luck lyrics

[Retch] Take your f**ing shoes off if they got mud on 'em n***a (yo fresh make sure you get that sh** about the shoes my n***a) [Verse] Yo..its like the world kept spinnin' the b**h n***as died(it was sick) Moon was full the mood was kinda odd I put the car in drive Turn up the light Then i spark the lye (spark dat) Sport the garments that was hard to find (can't find it nowhere n***a) (ungh) Lo sport when im steppin' out the soirée In and out no time to parley (Outta here) Right out the doorway --- -- no need to be seen Collect and disappear (gone) Bread --- of the back Like i was never there (gone) - --- --- by my departure Another drug dealer turned author Still sell work out the barber I --- stop why bother? Better toss --- grams to my little mans (get it poppin) And my Patterson n***as all for --- --- - -- (hah)n***as still hustle for so and so I had some coke you had to cut or you would overdose I think i might of k**ed a fiend when i was sixteen But thats another story ---- ---- ---- ------ I be higher than giraffe p**y (light up) Had to let off broad day at the last p**y (b**h n***as) [Hook] n***a this that murder sh** you ride to Pockets full of cracks with your burner right beside you If a n***a act up oh well Bad luck Hit him in the head Leave that p**y n***a dead You let em do that sh** to you you gotta learn little n***a Cause bullets really hurt and they burn little n***a So keep that sh** in mind before they leave it on the floor and have your moms at the church crying screaming at the lord n***as still talking fights like its 10th grade You can catch this hot lead before you catch a fades But dont get it f**ed up i knocked some n***as out Rup on a front a n***as moms in front a n***as house n***a i been with the sh**s since like potty training I sold cracks before weed and thats a honest statement (real talk) I was smoking sour in the county jail Microwave --- bread just to hide the smell Illest young n***a under twenty three By 12thgrade n***a moved about 20 p's Couples times i f**ed my money up and got it back Sometimes i thank the lord for dope and thats a honest fact This for my n***a bracking cars balling popping tags For all my n***as that burn their fingers on them plastic bags (hah) f** all of you ugly n***as Might get to jumping off the stage and get to jumping n***as (p**ys) [Hook] n***a this that murder sh** you ride to Pockets full of cracks with your burner right beside you If a n***a act up Oh well bad luck Hit him in the head Leave that p**y n***a dead You let em do that sh** to you you gotta learn little n***a Cause bullets really hurt and they burn little n***a So keep that sh** in mind before they leave it on the floor and have your moms at the church crying screaming at the lord