T.I. Feat. A$AP Rocky - Wildside (Prod. By Brian Kidd & No I.D.) | Текст песни

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• T.I. Feat. A$AP Rocky
• Wildside (Prod. By Brian Kidd & No I.D.)

[Hook: T.I. - singing]
Smoking weed, riding chrome
Only thing I've ever known
Is walk on the wildside
Welcome to our lives
Slangin' keys, spraying K's
Every day we getting paid
To walk on the wildside
Welcome to our lives

[T.I.]
Come take a little walk with me through my neighborhood and come spend a day in my trap
Get your paper right and that yay some good but just keep a tool in your lap
My lil patna holding that work, nigga want weight then keep around back
Better not violate on my turf, nigga you's in danger to die like that
Ain't no investigation, no statements and no witnesses, we ain't seen shit
Pull up after dawg with that jewelry on to come see a bitch, that way he get it
We on dark road with no street lights, that pistol play after fist fights
And them geek monsters walk all night with they crack pipes tryna get right
Midnight we shoot dice, the whole house smelling like cooked crack
You beat me, and you talk shit, you get shot bitch, and I took that
Hoodrats on deck, that loud is all I blow
This shit to you might sound wild, but this life is all I know

[Hook]

[T.I.]
Can you picture me back in '93 bumpin' Dr. Dre while I hit some weed?
Cut school, made ten G; thirteen, trying to get keys
At fifteen, I was full-grown, get wrong, get bust on
My uncle gave me a bunch of work and that shit was gone by the next morning
Young wild nigga runnin' with me, homicide wasn't nothing to us
Dead body wasn't nothin' to see, that pistol play was just fun to us
I was 19 with two felonies, one of my best friend had a life sentence
How my uncle Fred was just like me and had a bunch of partners no longer living
All about that cocaine dealing, no education, no pot to piss in
Old school, on chrome wheel, window tinted, pistol hidden
That's the shit that I come from; in my heart, fear ain't none
Stand tall, I can't run from that wildside, that I walk on

[Hook]

[ASAP Rocky]
Uh, yeah
All I ever did was put on, all my old friends tryna get on
Shorty fell out, making diss songs, never talk down when I get home
Ain't the type of nigga you can shit on; hundred spokes, brick, chrome
God body, big bone, that's hard body - Jim Jones
Niggas know the sound of how we switch on him, finna wild out on a Tip song
Better make a toast, nigga, Tip home - first get the bread, then get going
From the land of the lead where they spit chrome where most kids never get to live long
Get their pistols, get pissed on, pistol-whipped and stripped, homie
Left for a minute and they switched on me, caught them talking down, tryna bitch on me
And they snitch on me, ain't got shit on me so my guess is death is what they wish on me
So I'm blowing on them candles, closed lids and dark eyes
Cause hate's never part time when you on that wildside

[Hook]

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