Papa j. Ruiz - Eastwood Confessions of Papa J. Ruiz lyrics

Introduction: So what we talkin' bout? We talking bout police, mothaf**in Feds, what we talkin' bout? The mothaf**in government, religion, b**hes, liquor, weed, all that sh**. That real sh** yall need to hear [Verse One: Papa J. Ruiz] sh** I be like f** em' I don't need no friends And I will live forever I don't see no end Riding inside of this hooptie Treat it like it's a Benz I break the weed down take out the stems f** who pretends From a town where them baggies of that deep bulk Of green hope The price contends to see-saw We hustling for that reward But me Lord Because I'm spittin They literally look at me like I'm a retard But I can't turn back Because my feet fall on recharge Not shining young homie Perro antes I'm just trying to get up out this sh** Carlitos pregantes Don't turn to John Doe Watch your friends around them Benny Blancos Te begga si la plant están el banco [Bridge] I solemnly swear, for that mothaf**in dollar, I will turn into a crooked a** mothaf**a right? That's what this country do to yall [Verse Two: Papa J. Ruiz] Now one time For every time I done seen it For the time being that we here We get crucified for no reason Since before my lady on leavage I been chasing this money And chasing this dream A new breed of young leaders And mothaf**as gon' see us Cause that early preparation In this war is always needed Threat is always organized For Sumerian to speak it now Give me props now give me dues Don't follow code I done broke the rules Snakes disguised While shaking hands With people that I once knew Like f** homie But now I just stare at moons And paranoia kicks in And smoking "L"s don't help the mood Ones that k** you Are the ones that say that they're there for you And I apologize In that sixth grade That Em and Jay That Renegade that paved the way For me to grab my nuts and say f** you I'm getting paid Give me what I want Ima raid the place Run up in the spot And take the Grammy Speak loud I'm never rambling Hey, look at my face I'm that reason to grow Breaking that chief with the blow Should of been defeated at Lowes Failed a couple of times Now I'm back tough Middle finger Ima act up Two fives Rub your tits Put your a** up Eighth down f** the cops pulled up It's a shake down [Interlude] I got uh, one White male, one Black male, two Brown males. I need fifty cars - Police Officer [Bridge] It's all the grinding, up early Aye Ryan we recording? We recording? Aight that's solid All I ever wanted was this All I ever wanted was this Yall mothaf**as just playin with this Take it up, and grind Got that moaning sh** [Verse Three: Papa J. Ruiz] And as I dream Fall work hard for all my sh** Matter of fact I talk to God about all this sh** My son needs clothes The rent is due No side slackin homeboy I gotta get this loop I stand alone on no coward sh** And the lord bless those that overwork So I overtime on hour shifts The feeling overwhelmed wanna quit I said I can't, Land of The Hate Brainwashed by them Benjamin Franks Big dreams f** a minimum wage And the partners all around me Seen them similar days Blood sweat mixed with tears Run down my cheek Once upon a time I remember I was too young to speak But I understood I couldn't ever fear defeat Judge a man homeboy when he's done complete I stay running and I'm hoping Trying to find me some light Still roam with the night But my money not right But I give you my all I give a f** If the world rejects my word and balls All I've had since I was being choked With an umbilical cord Dear Lord Let a youngin wake up The next morning Take a fresh breath of air And rise up again Get the goals I prosper for I never acted as a person That I never thought I was Love will have these busters Slippin on their rubber gloves Trying to get you when the clock strike ten Getting rich or die trying Get you smoked By your very best friend See when you die People try to go and f** your b**h And I'll be damned man Throw stones and hit me with sticks But I be forward moving The potent user That bust like a ruger Doing damage like bazooka The ruler tell you move b**h Like I was Luda The fewer the shooter To shoot a youngin That be shootin for lunas Olive Buckley Cold December And just remember You ain't never had a friend like me Sometimes I sit and wonder If God ever had to go and sin like me And had calls with his cousin From the pin like me And smoked with his outlawz Before they ride like G'z You'll never find by iii Define iii By the places that no longer find iii The dry drive Blood of cry While these rhymes keep me inside House of my momma's chicken and rice For the little one While your drama cla** taught me How to roll dice In my eyes Bangin, gettin money, stripes b**hes with the fat a** that admire some rides Guns and knives The spice No mager heights G-Code Lived off 7-11 Doritos I speak words that a beast would Out the Eastwoods With the heat good Bustin like Eastwood Out they Gran Torino