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letra de lyfe 'n' tyme - the b.u.m.s

“life was given to us just to do the right thing
instead of that became an old bum and big dope fiend”

[verse one] [d-wyze]
check out my issues
it’s mad flavor that you savor for word life
on the streets you must be precise (watch out)
the essence of the concrete jungle (uh huh)
where cash money is made by the bundle (what’s up kid?)
check out this kid with the fresh new gear
sportin’ a phat yukon but won’t make it through the year
thinkin’ his life is bullet proof
glocks are fully loaded, have his -ss off the roof
or p-ss through loot, but things change for the better (what?!)
your punk knocks, just to get your sh-t together (say what?)
brothers surp-ss so many turfs for what it’s worth (why?)
there’s top dollar bills on this planet earth
me, myself & i choose to format right
and survive through the city nights
old man’s pops his son on the ave for slangin’ yac
bang!
he ain’t comin’ back
many, levels of bull, take your order
n-ggas ain’t frontin’
they leave your dead -ss on the corner
for what it’s worth, i needs to go get mine
find a fat sack and i’ll be fine
pumpin’ my n-ggas, instant death when you hear me
bonafied to rhyme live all through this whole city
no need to hop the b.u.m.s will keep you on nod
i represent cali and that sh-t ain’t odd
for my peeps locked down, you keep a smile not a frown
you know me?
i know you too from sherman’s old school ground
peace, see ya later
i think i left my mark
oakland’s my one true love, but yo it’s gettin’ dark

[hook]
this goes out to all the hustlers that’s out to get yours
on the street dwellin’, crack sellin’ entrepreneurs
the ballers that survive to see ’95 and all the players
that’s down to keep it live

[verse two] [mystic]
it’s mystic on the mic representin’ the west
plus representin’ the craft, womanhood at it’s best
yo simply
20 years young, with the, gifted tongue
leave n-ggas, supremely sprung when my sh-t gets swung
one in a million ways to die
when caught up in the rapture of an unequivocal sister
my nature is of capture
laughter, as the mask cascades
down my
lyrical blade i don’t need to be saved
can’t trade, the life is rough enough to cuff a sister in chains
so i be
keyed on the regular, just to keep me sane
it’s straining me
staining me
brothers be like, “d-mn you so cold”
they never fail to feel the pain in me
dangerously
close to the edge
lord have mercy
what a tangled web
still my n-ggas say that it will be fine
just let your light shine
let your light shine
divine
across the nation
matter of fact, f-ck that i got worldly expectations
so don’t bother business up my mental with stress
signin’ off with finesse
the rude gal from the west

[hook] [x2]
this goes out to all the hustlers that’s out to get yours
on the street dwellin’, crack sellin’ entrepreneurs
the ballers that survive to see ’95 and all the players
that’s down to keep it live

[verse three] [e-vocalist]
fakin’ the style is a flagrant foul, let’s chill for awhile
but any in it comes back someway somehow
playin’ both sides like a double edged knife
that’ll get you squashed like a bug on the windshield of life
this goes out to all the 70’s kids who didn’t die from s.i.d.s
only to spend a lifetime doin’ bids
some, wither away on the street corner gamblin’
but i be stackin’ loot for my daughter to hit gramblin
never claim to be the baddest brother but i murder on the flow
keep my financial, status on the down low
so b-tches don’t know if i’m broke or clockin’ doe
livin’ small with large dreams was my theme for ’94
raps my life without my child and wife i couldn’t go the distance
so f-ck welfare and general -ssistance
f-ck 5-0 and gettin’ scared from hoppin’ fences
and f-ck them motherf-ckers that’s threatened by my existence
my mental provides strength to make the weak shiver
a full time black man, part time n-gga

“ain’t it good”

- the b u m s

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