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letra de blood sport - clika one

[romero the lobe – verse 1:]
up in the ghetto we play blood sport
as a child my biggest dream was to be a drug lord
bust a nut and some (?) twisted in this drug war
like a tug of war, it pulled me in
f-ck middlemen was never never very cool with them
might’ve went to school with them
they talked a gang of sh-t
i love them fools
but some of them was full of sh-t
some turnеd lunatic
most turned shady
brothers hooked on crack; abondеd their babys
we branded crazy
there’s few that prosper
first time felons there ain’t no job offers
spend half of all my life ducking crooked coppers
all you gold digging hoes
and rap impostors
[verse 2:]
ey, fool we live in bad times
that’s why the homies carry dirty nines
clear your mind and f-ck snitching do the time
life is a vicious cycle best friends becoming your rivals
because of a title of position
it’s called survival
you know half what know
and puff half what i smoke
the homies got good hearts..
it’s the hood that made them criminals…
and i be facing minimal life terms with a life to learn
we facing sh-t with an ounce to burn and bare knuckles
against a brick wall
bleed til we ball like angels that fall
am i scared of death? not at all
i’m just a voice you feel
speak for the streets
cus streets are real
homeboys with battle scars from battlefields
that’s the serio, it’s…

[chorus:] x2
it’s for the blood sport
young homies are playing drug lords
in a drug war
they down to take a slug for
the homies, the hood, the money, the weed
life’s a mothaf-cka but we got mouths to feed
verse 3:
don’t even ask about us slanging drugs straight up drugs is supporting us
and opening up doors for us
you mothaf-cka angel dust
crazier than a f-ck
that’s why we pack heat with us
cus these street nights are rough
and the rough get busted on
we stay calm when most of you b-tches get along
i’d rather be dead than play along
searching for peace in the devil’s arms
believing in god
hoping that he finds us not realizing he was right behind us
tears in his eyes
like a father when his son dies
we all got gang ties
grew up on 40’s and popping the 45’s

verse 4:
i’m having dreams of going platinum
i won’t give that sh-t up
busting rhymes in night clubs in the same old f-cked up chucks
this young xlood had it up to here
see i’m glad to be here
my game is official
my war storie’s my card of tissue
what’s more importat than your glory?
your girls that’s kissing you
is telling your whole life story and n0body’s listening to you
it’s coming home from a bid
n0body’s dealing with you
it’s finding out your best friend is the one that snitching on you
bloodsport what you thinking we strapping these guns for?
the money, the weed, i’ll take a bullet in the guts for it…
[chorus:] x2
it’s for the blood sport
young homies are playing drug lords
in a drug war
they down to take a slug for
the homies, the hood, the money, the weed
life’s a mothaf-cka but we got mouths to feed

verse 5;
i set it off with a bang
like a marathon with a tight grip
like a python
pulling a trigger on my pistol til all the bullets are gone
i gotta deal with the lord and hard head mothaf-ckas
who snap open like ruggers under presuer blowing they cover
stuttering with every word your uttering it’s ridiculous
like catching syphilis from a b-tch who already knew half the sh-t
i’m hazardous like radation and chemical waste
like putting my gun in your face and shootingvyou twice in the same place
i ain’t playing the race card
i don’t give a f-ck where you originated
i’ll get your peoples dilated when you hear me rap and you blaze it, face it
the cold hard truth; you can’t recapture youth
i’m out to capture what i never had, in absolute
so i shoot first and won’t ask questions period
i’m more serious than you giving aids to your girl and her giving it to your kids
that’s ignorant but what would you expect from a born loser
begging i choose a living everyday life underground in a sewer

- clika one

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