"Deep Down" lyrics

"Deep Down"
(feat. Mr. Doctor)

[Brotha Lynch:]
Yeah I could load a 9 up everyday, but why
My locc's told me homie make them tapes
And keep that 24 block alive
But if I feel I'm in need, I got's to ride
Carry a 9 for straight business, not just a side
Man it's the night-mare, creepin up in the cut
I'm hittin dice games, barbecues, no matter what
The things I've seen'll make ya throw up
Flaunt your flag, shoot your gats, hit your dank
Where I'm from that's how ya grow up
Man it's that wicked and 9 millimeter
Carrier bein stereo-typed daily
Ya got's to feel me, foo it's that baby
Killas run around everyday that's why I'm strapped
Ya heard it I got my own back-fade
Out into the 'lac and hit the city of Sac
Them homies given me that
But you got them fools that want a foe then
They wonderin why I'm carryin me a 12 gauge pump
Man I ain't no punk
The average everyday thug that's how it sounds
I'm defendin myself, and loadin that mili
And leaving em layin

Deep down, there's a place for hope
Deep down, there's a place for hope
Deep down, there's a place for hope
Deep down, there's a place for hope

[Mr. Doctor:]
I guess it's hard to explain why I'm feelin how I'm feelin
I guess I'm feelin sorrow cus my homies got some steel in em
And foos would say that it's my fault I bet
See because I wasn't strapped yo, but I can't fuck my set
How could I know that them fools would blast?
Later on, on my folks
It's funny how this bangin's got its different strokes
I think about my loccs and how they made it
Though I'm stressin from the fact
They gotta suffer from a bullet hole
And Mr. Doctor just don't have hope locc
It's only been a month, since my last down partner got smoked
And rivals is deep, up in my city foo
Since I'm on the underground team, I can't have no peace
My life is tore up so I guess I'm stuck
Yeah, I got my St. Ides, I'm turnin it up
To get drunk, then I pore some on the street
While I say to myself, for the block
Homie rest in peace

Deep down, there's a place for hope
Deep down, there's a place for hope
Deep down, there's a place for hope
Deep down, there's a place for hope

[Brotha Lynch:]
They say that ain't the way to handle that type funk
But now I'm loadin up the strap, smokin on that blunt
Just cus the Brotha Hung is flag-up
What that mean, I can't ride?
Why G's up in my face, I'm bout to help them ride
I keep a low pro, drink the 4-0
And lounge until it's time to go
Shinin up the forty-fo
Rollin up the boogey-boo, indo
And hopin if I should die, before I'm high
That they bury me in 50 pounds of chocolate thai
I got them homies from the south-side givin it up and
Them homies from the east-side slangin that stuff and
I'm right up in the middle tryin to hang on and
Tryin not to end up like them niggas doin time in the pen
But then again
I'm down for when the homies is ready to roll em up
You know, stick in a dark-blue cut
And as I'm creepin through ya set
Trip, don't get caught up, shot up
The gardenblock locc's, man we leave em layin

Deep down, there's a place for hope
Deep down, there's a place for hope
Deep down, there's a place for hope
Deep down, there's a place for hope


You May Also Like
Messy Marv - "Like Me" n tha function mess be stuntin. some of these niggas like messy frontin. till mess come bak wit a Sp sumthin n put led in yer cheast n stomache. n if u got a vest its nothin. we got telephones....
Bone Thugs-N-Harmony - "East 1999" East ninteen ninety nine my niggas.... Thinkin' bout back in the days when the year was '89 Little nigga on da grind Gotta get mine doing my crime, Wid two in here, Steady stackin' my ends...
Geto Boys - "Straight Gangstaism" ...when the fire dies down what the fuck you gonna do? damn it feels good to be a gansta... yeah, I take y'all way back Seven years old, I'm lookin' up to the ganstas in the hood, 'cause to...
UGK - "Murder" I'm still Pimp C bitch so what the fuck is up? I'm puttin' powder on the streets cause I got Big fuckin' nut's comin' back from Louisiana In a Fleetwood Lac <
South Park Mexican - "Red Beams And Rice" Stop at the store make my bitch pump the gas And when we get home bitch you fitting to cut my grass In my cutlass, 1982 My baby mama tell me, "Los, I ain't afraid of you Fuck your threats, 15...