Mir Fontane - Last Friday lyrics

[Produced by Lil D Beatz] [Verse 1: Mir Fontane] Man I'm just ridin' 'round the hood in a cla**ic Only thing promised to me is a casket Craig in the back kicking game to a bad b**h Things ain't the same since Deebo got his a** kicked Started off broke used to smoke my own dope Now i move work and a n***a sell soap Got the lowrider with the hunnid inch spokes Craig still ain't got a job so I showed him the ropes And we just sit and relax we sell work out the back I still buy cigarettes for my mama In exchange for some p**y, some head, and some cooking, I even give packs to Ms. Parker Ezel shot the reverend and Debbie got pregnant But Craig he ain't having no kids Felicia OD'd and her momma blame me but man f** it It is what it is Pull up to the crib one wheel on the curb Finna roll up let the motherf**er burn Sipping warm liquor but we smoking on sherm 22 missed calls and they all from Big Worm Guess we never gon' learn, never Tryna get myself together He constantly calling and texting me Answer my phone and then this what he said to me [Bridge: AuthenticK] If you don't got my money, or my weed You got till' 10:30, that's all the time you need Then imma k** you, and him And you won't live to see another Friday, oh Friday If you don't got my money, or my bud Ooo I'm so done talking Smokey imma f** you up! First imma k** you, then him And you won't live to see another Friday, oh Friday [Verse 2] Too high, too stoned, man we just as good as two tombstones Too late, we're too gone, on the corner taking 40's to the dome Ms. Jones, Ms. Jones, please loan a n***a some bread Cuz the fiends just ain't buying the sh** we supplying And soon enough me and yo' son gon' be dead Posted up on the block Me and Craig got the strap It's almost 10:30 and we still short a stack Worm calls his phone I said,"Don't answer that" But after a while he just stops calling back, uh [sang]Dead man walking, proceed with caution A black honda civic was hawkin', they stepped on the gas then pulled up and start sparkin' We ran up the street, and made a left, uh Man we just running for our life Man it's either bust back, Or face d**h, uh And we ain't tryna' see that light Made it back to my crib and we ran up the steps Banging on the front door just tryna' catch our breath Them n***as drove by with they uzis and techs 2 shots to the chest I think Craig got wet, oh no ["Friday" movie cut] [Verse 3] Every time I come downstairs you in the kitchen Arm and hammer baking soda f**in' up my dishes I been getting drunk and facing blunts, I'm getting weeded Put the green up in the dutch and roll it when I need it I been mackin' f**ing b**hes, back in 1987 Bullet to my chest it missed my heart now that's a blessin' Went to school and met yo' mama since day one she been a rida' Hunnid grams of c**aine stuffed up in her cucaracha [(Outro(x2))] Praise God hallelujah I done made it off that corner No more dead bodies in the trunk of my corolla You gon' need a Dr. Pepper, pistols pop like Coca-Cola 'Nother dollar in yo' pocket, 'nother Friday on that corner ('nother Friday on that corner n***a)