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Still Here lyrics (feat. Three 6 Mafia, Project Pat)
[Verse 1:] Street life killed my daddy Got my momma pregnant in the back of a caddy Since i lost my first tooth i ain't been happy Young wild nigga child why that boy is so nappy He got that devil in 'im Police wanna take him down Used to be a player but the coochie cost money now He ain't to bright but he know a trap when he see one Got is conscious in his pants with his gun
[Chorus:] Seventeen years of rain foggin up my windows (yeah) It done been seventeen years of pain But i'm still here though Seventeen years of rain foggin up my window (yeah) It done been seventeen years of pain but i'm still here though
[Verse 2:] Shoe box full of pictures All that's left of good times i shared with my niggas Some alive and some no longer with us How da, how da, how da hell do you pray for forgiveness When you got devil in you Rogain keeps the hair strong but Cocain keeps the cable on I can't wait till my nigga jb come home Why do all the real niggas stay gone so long
[Chorus:] Seventeen years of rain foggin up my window (yeah) It done been seventeen years of pain But i'm still here though Seventeen years of rain foggin up my window It done been seventeen years of pain but i'm still here though
[Three 6 Mafia & Project Pat (rap)] Even though a nigga still in the hood Gettin drunk and smokin on wood I'ma make it up out of this street life On the corner is where i stood Out there all by myself Cuz a player gotta get this mil Wearin fur ain't doin us no good Flippin burgers ain't gonn make you filled But i'm still ten toes in this Hustlin tryna make hood rich And i still ain't trustin no bitch Cuz the mother fuckers always snitch
Its hard in this ghetto man Fifteen years old with coke and caine Cheese don't come i'ma go insane Snatch me a purse snatch me a chain Out here on the block with the fiends and the moon Squeeze on the glock tryna pop at a goon He done stole my dough he took my food Project wasn't born with a silver spoon In my mouth in my grill wear six chain then niggas get killed One in the grave the other in jail Nobody wins thats fo' real
Back way when i was a runny nose runnin round Up and down the town Carrying a black glock and a gold frown I kept that product on me It wasn't no problem homie You said it i had it and met you if you stole my money Just tryna buy bologna but now i'm buying lobster Still totin a glock but pusing a rolls rouce and winning oscars
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