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don fran – – birthday letter كلمات اغاني

a yo, i broke hearts and ive been broken hearted//
got some things that i still ain’t let go prolly //
only think ahead but some it’s kinda hard mayne//
when you had the world and she was ready for your last name//
ahh shiii shawty bad that hit me on the text///
what you think? girl imma man if you ain’t with it who’s next///
uhh, i gotta lotta people who be counting on me//
so get and get it, anyway till accounts bestow me//
never changed, in the game, just a different lane lil homie///
i’m still the same, can’t forget where we came from homie//
wanted jays but got puma 2 for 1//
my brother a sz 10 we can share and we both get one//
or payless, the family broke but we ain’t broken son//
i know the struggle first hand and feeling hopeless young//
yo i gotta quick question?//
hold up, i got a quick question//
you ever seen your mama tryna run away?? begging her to stay?
well i remember that like yesterday//
that memory hurts the soul & i still ain’t learn my lesson//
i used to curse to god and tell satan imma catch him//
mama always trippin but i love her just the way she is//
the embodiment angelic features and amazing bliss//
and all the famous kids, used to her love too//
guess they love the way she cleans the crib/kids and love em too//
guess thats why she ain’t home when i came from school//
i guess that’s why she ain’t home when i to go school//
but if you ain’t speak the f-ckin language whats a ma to do?//
gotta work 3 jobs and hope they kids in school//
cause the kids around the block wanna hang with dude//
but i swear they looking suspect and dangerous too //
but thats a fam and the block thats there home//
they never had guidance, a dark hole for the lost soul//
i believe they didn’t plan it, but mom and pops abandon he// who’s just a little man who don’t understand or see//
the struggles that an immigrant be facin//
when youre giving birth to first generation//
who gotta grow up quick amdist adversity theyre facin/
cause the streets ain’t patient, state emergency//
state penn, waiting list since my birth i see //
clearly every lesson by the big homie//
retaliations is a must now the years on me /
you the only that write, everybody else is ghost //
you chose a different life, so hold it down for sure//
in this four corner room, 10 years where i live dont it/
feel better breathing air?//
is what he wrote on my birthday this year//
thats what he wrote this year //
thats what he wrote this year///
so what the f-ck you think imma change for?? //
still the same motherf-cker you thougt ain’t havin a thing going//
i graduated college, how you think we pay tuition?//
i learned to hard hustle in middle school was flipping//
now i’m 24 making moves i’m 35, so im 35, 35 boy we gon retire//
feels good to finally pay my mamas rent//
ill break my boys off call it money well spent// mayne
why you get this boy started in the first place?
ever seen god? you can meet him if the don say
bombay k!lla cali kush how my lungs bathe
blunts soo good lit it monday finish sunday
gun play, never talk about it cause i must say
i never bust sh-t but i’ll beat your -ss like im money may
swift left, bet ill hit cha with the jab b-tch
savage, on anybody claimin that hardcore, parkour
when the boy hit you with that par 4
that’s 4 four your jaw and for more for your nose bone// d-mn
i move without discretion
when you burn a bridge boy you better leearn the lesson cause uh//
your either drown or a build a motherf-ckin sp-ceship//
and go off, on every mothaf-cka that be hatin//
slaying anybody, with the guillotine with the mic chord but
n-gga i dont like war//
educated man best believe i’ll take ya life slow
no lawyer on the case just show you what your life worth// 9th ward grimey, but got rockefeller cl-ss//
eat with the elite, and i got street soldiers on command//
credit in both worlds i’m beyond your dreams//
hustle or get hustled and i’m a don capeesh

- don fran

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