Dro - Guttaville lyrics

~Hook~ Guttaville, n***as pop pop, people get k**ed down in Guttaville, hustle hard or broke steel down in Guttaville, for a wait for society Guttaville, I wish the Devil would try me ~Verse 1~ Im riding low white walls on the caddy steel Im high as the rocks all the way to Lattyville Not far from figures stop ask him how yah papi feel Clean cut ? keep the head nappy still Guttaville, yeah we broke out here Peel the road like blunts when u smoked out there Imagine takin the stunt some place where n***as left you Then they tried to test you, you made them all respect you See, thats exactly where my people come from The grind, the audience the slash and beans come from We done walked through the stormy weather sleep with my gun Theres a lot of math i dont wanna teach to my son The hide of rocks, the stove and the beaker be one See the simple mind will always have to pay a hard price Where im from its cold, we keep the heater at night jay aint the only one that had to live the hard knocked life, we from... to the hook) ~Verse 2~ You can die on the corna come up off a quarter Place an order, have over easy under some water You can get whatever you need 40 ounces and weed, c**a leaves cook in the kitchen, kids play in the streets 15 with heat belt buckles stuck on they knees Could we disrespect jump and you n***as will bleed Money, this and burnas, cars beef and the murdas Tryin tah change for em juss say f** em we dirty Get jacked for your jersey Get that a** shot for your rims Shootin dice broad daylight up on kakies and timbs At the club n***as 16 deep in the truck n***as talkin sh** they aint strapped, stupid as f** go to the 51 tray you would see wat i mean You aint gotta be an actor to get cut from the scene The roads'll spot him he here for the whole part of him He don't care he only stopped He will ran on your whole block We from... (hook) ~Verse 3~ Either k** or be k**ed You can fake or be real, turn into somebody's meal(chyea!) My whole section is 8 steel We live off of "Lets make deals with k**ers that take pills" No marta we stay real eat off your meal Fat but posted on your god for wantin meal God, my hood's ill save 'em Workin hard 9 to 5 but wont pay 'em The Lord treat my n***as like roaches they tryna spray 'em The government be hallin ten fo, they OK 'em Black to the future they tryna back to the day us The Devil never played for Oakland we still Raiders Only God can save us (hook)