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I Didn't Ask To Come
Goodie Mob

GOODIE MOB


I Didn't Ask To Come Lyrics

Everyday somebody gets killed
What's the deal it's 1995 and a nigga wanna live
The type of life that people dream, I want things
A crib, a car, while living the life of a king

I know I take for granted at times for what I got
Still hustlin' and bustlin' and now and then I stand a pop
Or two to come up a steady battle through the days
Mamma think I'm wrong because I wanna get paid

The system ain't given T-mo a chance 22 on the loose
And black trying to get the noose a little slack
Around my neck they making it hard for a brother to cope
It's still illegal to smoke cess 'cause they can't tax
I'm ready to go up in the White House with my acts
And chop up shit until they give my freedom back

Service to what, who damn, you got caught sought away out
The trait is getting full, calling up your pull but pull ain't got it
I fell cold inside like a man sleeping on pavement
Under the bridge of I-20 west

And stress on the face of the man
Cussing out the atmosphere with nobody close enough to hear
And who dat miss they fee, 'cuz all they personal shit
Is sitting on the front lawn of apple tree

And for those who ain't got take
Before the owner shows back up with the U-haul, police you call
But wasn't no Marshall there to watch your stuff, see I stand tall
To this world like a kid walking rapping his rhymes to himself

A book on a shelf of many MC's seen them come and go
Style free with Cool Breeze 'til it's thick like dat fog
Stacking away my extra for a engine for tha hog
Dropping a point from the East from a location out tha trees, 360 degrees

Born into these crooked ways
I never even ask to come so now I'm living in the days
I struggle and fight to stay alive
Hoping that one day I'd earn the chance to die

Pallbearer to this one
Pallbearer to that one
Can't seem to get a grip
'Cause, my palms is sweatin'

Niggas ain't getting no where fast but, closer to the hearse
Why sunbeam burst off baskets nearly blinding me
Almost dropped ma end of the casket
Woodgrain and the only thang on my brain is where this coward hang
S W A T S
South West Atlanta Fountain Lane

Forgot the batch niggas got thirty years
Lord forgive me and my foes I know
Revenge is best served when cold by those
Who feel no guilt, God don't care whether you got a spade or not

Ain't no turning in your playing hand you was dealt
Better tighten up your belt man, always go with
The first instinct because, I don't make the rules
Ooh, you know how it is in these streets
Victims rarely get a chance to think twice

As he laid in the final resting place
He had such a peaceful expression in his face
My visions blurry from crying but it ain't hard to see that
At any time it coulda been me

It's about 90 degrees outside but yet it felt like I'm froze
The ceremonies come to a close
I toss a rose but just can't seem to walk away yet
Damn I done f*cked around and got upset

But it ain't nothing we can do
It's bigger than me and you one day our time coming too
So ain't no use in being sad
Leaving here was probably the best gift he ever had

We should be glad
Maybe his life was something
That he had to give to show me
That I need to be responsible about how I live

I won't complain about my pain
But I just ain't gone let my niggas die in vain
So Bean, I'm gone make it for you
The cycle that these young black men keep goin' through

I'm gone break it for you
And start takin' care of me
And me consist of all my friends and my family
From now on, until I'm gone

Born into these crooked ways
I never even ask to come so now I'm living in the days
I struggle and fight to stay alive
Hoping that one day I'd earn the chance to die

Pallbearer to this one
Pallbearer to that one
Can't seem to get a grip
'Cause my palms is sweatin'

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Songwriter(s): Patrick L. Brown, Cameron F. Gipp, Willie Edward Knighton, Robert Terrance Barnett, Thomas Decarlo Burton, Raymon Ameer Murray, Rico Renard Wade
Record Label(s): 1995 LaFace Records LLC
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