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bam vito - money and violence lyrics
mueller music
brooklyn
yeah…
them young boys be wildin’…
all this money and violence…
them young boys be wildin’…
all this money and violence…
yeah, yeah…
(chorus)
see i don’t want to see you hurt but pain bring you a little closer
you said you’d ride or die you supposed to be like my soldier
thought you was looking out got me lookin over my shoulder
hold the hammers like grudges b-tch i surround cause they know us
them young boys be wildin’
all this money and violence
them young boys be wildin’
all this money and violence
them young boys be wildin’
all this money and violence
them young boys be wildin’
all this money and violence
(verse 1)
motherf-ckers wanna act loco
young drippy n-gga who be getting that dough
smoking that dope, doing these shows
plus i pack heat like the weather too cold
and you don’t even know
i got these problems, i got these voices in my
head
and they keep telling me these things like f-ck these ho’s and get this bread
back when i was just a boy
my mama was dish and bar
had work on the kitchen table
my daddy was unemployed
i had to work
he had to work
he had to grind
like on the 1st
cause when you’re broke, you do your worst
i smoke this ‘perc and leave the earth
a young boy searching for a lit
can’t find no money on the strip
a bunch of rachets on the strip
and they keep rachets on their hip
and eat for weeks…
they shoot to k!ll and play for keeps
it’s money over ho’s and yes we practice what we preach
(chorus)
see i don’t wanna see you hurt but pain bring you a little closer
you said you’d ride or die you supposed to be like my soldier
thought you was looking out got me lookin over my shoulder
hold the hammers like grudges b-tch i surround cause they know us
them young boys be wildin’
all this money and violence
them young boys be wildin’
all this money and violence
them young boys be wildin’
all this money and violence
them young boys be wildin’
all this money and violence…
(verse 2)
all this money and violence
all this sh-t i can’t make up
all this weed that i’m smokin’
i f-ck around might wake up my neighbors
and my o-heads be silent
them young boys they stay strapped
around here like gangland, grown men get
kidnapped
i mean giftwrapped
cl-t clat
shots rip through yo six pack
real n-gga i been that
see they talk bout it i lived that
so brooklyn, so ny
my mask on, my tip side
then all black, like b-tch ride
you won’t get, we inside
yo house, gun in yo mouth
guns like see em n-gga gonna make em bring em out
all in your fridge, feeling your couch
heard you got work even when it was a drought
b-tch i got ducktape on that pistol
i got ducktape on that pistol
i put ducktape on them little kids and
put ducktape on that b-tch too
(repeat chorus)
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