"Can't Come Home" lyrics
(feat. DJ Red Handed)
[Boldy James:]
The black Rolls
2-2-7
Concreature
I can't come home, my parents didn't raise me
Streets did, watching feins smoking out of ink pens
In the drug zone I grew up under kingpin
Niggas bringing in truckloads, getting them things in
This for my bunky, my cody, and my rappie
Them niggas I jail with, with a criminal rap sheet
Grew up to be concreatures instead of athletes
New kids on the block and boys from the backstreets
Wreck em base, we ain't nigga, voice raspy
Had these niggas babysitting bricks like its latch key
Mob figure, you gotta get permission to wack me
Wishin the streets woulda took a nigga when they had me
[DJ Red Handed:]
Ever since the day I was born
I faced cold winters and storms
Never was warned about betrayal or deceit (Never)
Or that road I was on, was about to put a young G in a penitentiary (Damn!)
16% of us for centuries, surrounded by loneliness and chain
6 numbers became a young nigga name
What a strange twist of fate
Its a big difference moving that weighment, cruising late night
With nothing to hear but brake lights
Man that late night startin to hate life
A bit killing me, damn forgot what freedom felt like
Literally, seriously, suck in the day, lust in your dream
Never really wanted to see what tomorrow will bring
If I could, I would, probably borrow a life from somebody white with a nice wife
Boy i can't eat right, in the house furniture mahogany
When I'm only trying to see a meal, but only me is stopping me
But thats not reality, cause perception is reality
And my perception is stressing me the fuck out
Sometimes I feel I lucked out badly
Wishing the streets woulda took me when they had me, sadly
[Boldy James:]
This for my bunky, my cody, and my rappie
Them niggas I jail with, with a criminal rap sheet
Grew up to be concreatures instead of athletes
New kids on the block and boys from the backstreets
Wreck em base, we ain't nigga, voice raspy
Had these niggas babysitting bricks like its latch key
Mob figure, you gotta get permission to wack me
Wishin the streets woulda took a nigga when they had me
Im just a ghetto child runnin wild
Puffin bows on the mile with another small
Strong OG flavors, we running through that loud
So lowkey that my neighbors thought I was doin time
Its been awhile since I bumped into my youngin Kyle
But meanwhile in the hood my niggas blowin trial
Heard they downtown tryna bumble through a nigga files
Been big paws on the puppy since juvenile
Must've got the word, how a nigga runnin through that yao
Cause all I know is yayo, shoutout to Snooty Wyle
Had so many churchs in the trunk, thought that I blew my songs
There go them niggas right there, ready to rock, loop around
Riding with that mini Draco, thats how you move the crowd
Catch you slippin on the hoop court, shoot you down
Rock you from the free throw line, niggas will do you foul
With that DE45, execution style
This for my bunky, my cody, and my rappie
Them niggas I jail with, with a criminal rap sheet
Grew up to be concreatures instead of athletes
New kids on the block and boys from the backstreets
Wreck em base, we ain't nigga, voice raspy
Had these niggas babysitting bricks like its latch key
Mob figure, you gotta get permission to wack me
Wishin the streets woulda took a nigga when they had me
The black Rolls
2-2-7
Concreature
I can't come home, my parents didn't raise me
Streets did, watching feins smoking out of ink pens
In the drug zone I grew up under kingpin
Niggas bringing in truckloads, getting them things in
This for my bunky, my cody, and my rappie
Them niggas I jail with, with a criminal rap sheet
Grew up to be concreatures instead of athletes
New kids on the block and boys from the backstreets
Wreck em base, we ain't nigga, voice raspy
Had these niggas babysitting bricks like its latch key
Mob figure, you gotta get permission to wack me
Wishin the streets woulda took a nigga when they had me
[DJ Red Handed:]
Ever since the day I was born
I faced cold winters and storms
Never was warned about betrayal or deceit (Never)
Or that road I was on, was about to put a young G in a penitentiary (Damn!)
16% of us for centuries, surrounded by loneliness and chain
6 numbers became a young nigga name
What a strange twist of fate
Its a big difference moving that weighment, cruising late night
With nothing to hear but brake lights
Man that late night startin to hate life
A bit killing me, damn forgot what freedom felt like
Literally, seriously, suck in the day, lust in your dream
Never really wanted to see what tomorrow will bring
If I could, I would, probably borrow a life from somebody white with a nice wife
Boy i can't eat right, in the house furniture mahogany
When I'm only trying to see a meal, but only me is stopping me
But thats not reality, cause perception is reality
And my perception is stressing me the fuck out
Sometimes I feel I lucked out badly
Wishing the streets woulda took me when they had me, sadly
[Boldy James:]
This for my bunky, my cody, and my rappie
Them niggas I jail with, with a criminal rap sheet
Grew up to be concreatures instead of athletes
New kids on the block and boys from the backstreets
Wreck em base, we ain't nigga, voice raspy
Had these niggas babysitting bricks like its latch key
Mob figure, you gotta get permission to wack me
Wishin the streets woulda took a nigga when they had me
Im just a ghetto child runnin wild
Puffin bows on the mile with another small
Strong OG flavors, we running through that loud
So lowkey that my neighbors thought I was doin time
Its been awhile since I bumped into my youngin Kyle
But meanwhile in the hood my niggas blowin trial
Heard they downtown tryna bumble through a nigga files
Been big paws on the puppy since juvenile
Must've got the word, how a nigga runnin through that yao
Cause all I know is yayo, shoutout to Snooty Wyle
Had so many churchs in the trunk, thought that I blew my songs
There go them niggas right there, ready to rock, loop around
Riding with that mini Draco, thats how you move the crowd
Catch you slippin on the hoop court, shoot you down
Rock you from the free throw line, niggas will do you foul
With that DE45, execution style
This for my bunky, my cody, and my rappie
Them niggas I jail with, with a criminal rap sheet
Grew up to be concreatures instead of athletes
New kids on the block and boys from the backstreets
Wreck em base, we ain't nigga, voice raspy
Had these niggas babysitting bricks like its latch key
Mob figure, you gotta get permission to wack me
Wishin the streets woulda took a nigga when they had me
