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letra de without love - typ ill

where would you be without love, huh?
even with all this hate that im surrounded by, i force myself to love them
because the energy is real yo. the energy’s real

i told you that i’d never stop / got this summer on lock
new chain with the fresh fade from willies barber shop
shout out to christopher too / that wading river swag
hop in the jag with pinch, stickers and promo bag
i got the street team with every sign we stop
hopping out the truck, typ ills on the block, hold up
i see the shorty’s i know, a little older now
still fly as h-ll with the teeny boppers, they know the sound
what comes around, goes around so i settled down
im still a flirt, sucker for skirts, tea kettle sound
still wilding out when i’m popping bottles, you know where i be
big up to every ydjic
my posse my army / petey, joey and tommy
cousins and blood brothers, street hustlers, they got me
t-y-p
trust your people / no evil in the lobby of the marriott
sip bacardi til i’m carried out (lets go)

hook
and as the world turns, i can be a better man
but as the world burns i’m asking for a bigger fan

i love all my people
my boondocks and street bros
back roads at midnight, crack open a bud light
a 12-pack, then we brews and cruise, listen to boot camp
shout out to d.g. – about to be a new dad
my heart beats fast for my family in the struggle
my chest tightens up when i think of homeys who hustle
1 love to all dominicans in spots that i be slinging in
its all love. i still pay the bills the government hit me with
a small snub inside of my jacket packing a ratchet
a duce duce in the mitsubishi, you can ask matik
back when we had it like that. as a matter of fact?
i still have it but my rapping now is stabbing the track
that ox work or mos-berg, that’s my word
im still trained but still sane from war zones, my heart hurts
hit the bar first with bubba and start fights
bag a b-tch with a black eye but its all …right

hook

life is like a box a….
just a boxer
get knocked down and knocked out if you ain’t standing proper
started from the bottom now all the cameras gone’ spot ya
now you tryna act like your life can’t handle the pappa – razzi
watch me. i work to hard for ya’ll to stop me
my haters a dime a dozen thats a buck 20 for my team
yea that adds up. something for my chick
stunting like supa dave. i’m flossing with john jiggs
i roll with sickness i told my homey stick with it
hes gonna make it, i promise
my word is born like an infant
i’m adding numbers to digits and digits of madd b-tches
i’m never chasing these hoes, that’s an oxymoron for riches, uh
i’m a real dude
so let me earn the throne
i got support from the streets, trust me i learned the code
watch what you say like them burner phones
barely smoke so its burning slow. grinding so f*cking hard, its my turn to blow

hook

- typ ill

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