Song | Gone With the Wind |
Artist | Spice 1 |
Album | Immortalized |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
Standing here brings back a gang of memories, man | |
Sitting on this old block | |
All the violence and drugs you know | |
But i lived through it | |
Get this shit on, yeah nigga, you and them | |
Motherfuckers | |
Rest in player pieces my niggas | |
Blaaow! | |
Innocent bystanders be laying up in the streets | |
In the concrete jungle where real niggas be packing heat | |
Leaving your insides exposed to the witnesses walking by | |
Here today and gone tomorrow my nigga, we born to die | |
Keep your eyes open partner, ain't no rules in this shit | |
My nigga died with three kids and a wife, ain't that a bitch | |
I can't go clubbing because i'm thugging with some g's for real | |
I see some niggas at the party, then i'm subject to kill | |
Keep my head over the water, uzi in the stash | |
Niggas try to wet me up that's why i dumped on they ass | |
I had a homey named 鲇oney' now he's r.i.p | |
Niggas set him and killed him for some key's and g's | |
I don't know why they fuck did it, niggas plotting and scheme | |
That's why you can never be blind to a broke man's dream | |
Because see i'm losing it. i can't take it. i miss my peers | |
Talk to my nigga, makaveli. he's been dead for two years | |
Episodes of divine intervention, invade my mind | |
Got me thinking, amn i could've been dead, a couple times' | |
Killer pits and extra clips, around my bed when i sleep | |
Stash my glock under my pillow, twenty gauge by my feet | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
For my homies dead and gone in the wind | |
Gone with the wind, gone with the wind | |
Gone with the wind, gone with the wind | |
Chorus: | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
Put the fire to the blunt, take a sip of the hen | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
On my homies dead, gone with the wind | |
Gone with the wind | |
(2x) | |
Too many niggas smile in my face and back stab | |
I'm left throwing niggas in the trunk and kidnap | |
Thugging and loving bitches obsessed with this mob shit | |
Niggas thinking they moving | |
And bailing out the cut with the quickness | |
Suckers be blind to this real shit, we bring the pain | |
Bossalini, fetty chico, shiznilti still in the game | |
Immortalized forever, having my homies up in the grave | |
Thinking back on when i used to drank yac in my younger days | |
Bust the twelve gauge shotty, too young to buy liquor | |
Little bad ass niggas grew up to be mob figures | |
Living life on a razor; cars, money and bitches | |
Niggas plotting to kill us, coming in coupes in a milli's | |
We go to war il they feel us, bury they ass on the realest | |
(not sure what is said) eliminate you for scrilla | |
Niggas dying on the frontline | |
Spending most of they life ducking the one time, no sunshine | |
In the world of sin, from the gutter to the pen | |
Got me swimming in the game with a brim on my shark's fin | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
For my homies dead and gone in the wind | |
Gone with the wind | |
Chorus | |
I ain't no bitch but if you bone me i'm coming | |
Running double trying to murder something | |
Eyes red and heart pumping | |
Serving niggas out the back of the caddy | |
Hitting corners, | |
Ain't no love for you snitch ass niggas in california | |
Ducking suckers and shady bitches, scheming to gaffle riches | |
Niggas living fictitious, running game and selling fishes | |
Paranoia of surveillance vans watching me close | |
Nigga (?) dreams died back in '94 | |
Suckers laid down my homey, i just had to get off | |
Can't be acting like no bitch nigga, because war is raw | |
They say nice guys finish last and the good die young | |
Too many real niggas put to death by the hand of the gun | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
On my homies dead and gone in the wind | |
Gone with the wind, gone with the wind | |
Gone with the wind, gone with the wind | |
Gone with the wind | |
Chorus (3x) |
Standing here brings back a gang of memories, man | |
Sitting on this old block | |
All the violence and drugs you know | |
But i lived through it | |
Get this shit on, yeah nigga, you and them | |
Motherfuckers | |
Rest in player pieces my niggas | |
Blaaow! | |
Innocent bystanders be laying up in the streets | |
In the concrete jungle where real niggas be packing heat | |
Leaving your insides exposed to the witnesses walking by | |
Here today and gone tomorrow my nigga, we born to die | |
Keep your eyes open partner, ain' t no rules in this shit | |
My nigga died with three kids and a wife, ain' t that a bitch | |
I can' t go clubbing because i' m thugging with some g' s for real | |
I see some niggas at the party, then i' m subject to kill | |
Keep my head over the water, uzi in the stash | |
Niggas try to wet me up that' s why i dumped on they ass | |
I had a homey named nian oney' now he' s r. i. p | |
Niggas set him and killed him for some key' s and g' s | |
I don' t know why they fuck did it, niggas plotting and scheme | |
That' s why you can never be blind to a broke man' s dream | |
Because see i' m losing it. i can' t take it. i miss my peers | |
Talk to my nigga, makaveli. he' s been dead for two years | |
Episodes of divine intervention, invade my mind | |
Got me thinking, amn i could' ve been dead, a couple times' | |
Killer pits and extra clips, around my bed when i sleep | |
Stash my glock under my pillow, twenty gauge by my feet | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
For my homies dead and gone in the wind | |
Gone with the wind, gone with the wind | |
Gone with the wind, gone with the wind | |
Chorus: | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
Put the fire to the blunt, take a sip of the hen | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
On my homies dead, gone with the wind | |
Gone with the wind | |
2x | |
Too many niggas smile in my face and back stab | |
I' m left throwing niggas in the trunk and kidnap | |
Thugging and loving bitches obsessed with this mob shit | |
Niggas thinking they moving | |
And bailing out the cut with the quickness | |
Suckers be blind to this real shit, we bring the pain | |
Bossalini, fetty chico, shiznilti still in the game | |
Immortalized forever, having my homies up in the grave | |
Thinking back on when i used to drank yac in my younger days | |
Bust the twelve gauge shotty, too young to buy liquor | |
Little bad ass niggas grew up to be mob figures | |
Living life on a razor cars, money and bitches | |
Niggas plotting to kill us, coming in coupes in a milli' s | |
We go to war il they feel us, bury they ass on the realest | |
not sure what is said eliminate you for scrilla | |
Niggas dying on the frontline | |
Spending most of they life ducking the one time, no sunshine | |
In the world of sin, from the gutter to the pen | |
Got me swimming in the game with a brim on my shark' s fin | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
For my homies dead and gone in the wind | |
Gone with the wind | |
Chorus | |
I ain' t no bitch but if you bone me i' m coming | |
Running double trying to murder something | |
Eyes red and heart pumping | |
Serving niggas out the back of the caddy | |
Hitting corners, | |
Ain' t no love for you snitch ass niggas in california | |
Ducking suckers and shady bitches, scheming to gaffle riches | |
Niggas living fictitious, running game and selling fishes | |
Paranoia of surveillance vans watching me close | |
Nigga ? dreams died back in ' 94 | |
Suckers laid down my homey, i just had to get off | |
Can' t be acting like no bitch nigga, because war is raw | |
They say nice guys finish last and the good die young | |
Too many real niggas put to death by the hand of the gun | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
On my homies dead and gone in the wind | |
Gone with the wind, gone with the wind | |
Gone with the wind, gone with the wind | |
Gone with the wind | |
Chorus 3x |
Standing here brings back a gang of memories, man | |
Sitting on this old block | |
All the violence and drugs you know | |
But i lived through it | |
Get this shit on, yeah nigga, you and them | |
Motherfuckers | |
Rest in player pieces my niggas | |
Blaaow! | |
Innocent bystanders be laying up in the streets | |
In the concrete jungle where real niggas be packing heat | |
Leaving your insides exposed to the witnesses walking by | |
Here today and gone tomorrow my nigga, we born to die | |
Keep your eyes open partner, ain' t no rules in this shit | |
My nigga died with three kids and a wife, ain' t that a bitch | |
I can' t go clubbing because i' m thugging with some g' s for real | |
I see some niggas at the party, then i' m subject to kill | |
Keep my head over the water, uzi in the stash | |
Niggas try to wet me up that' s why i dumped on they ass | |
I had a homey named nián oney' now he' s r. i. p | |
Niggas set him and killed him for some key' s and g' s | |
I don' t know why they fuck did it, niggas plotting and scheme | |
That' s why you can never be blind to a broke man' s dream | |
Because see i' m losing it. i can' t take it. i miss my peers | |
Talk to my nigga, makaveli. he' s been dead for two years | |
Episodes of divine intervention, invade my mind | |
Got me thinking, amn i could' ve been dead, a couple times' | |
Killer pits and extra clips, around my bed when i sleep | |
Stash my glock under my pillow, twenty gauge by my feet | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
For my homies dead and gone in the wind | |
Gone with the wind, gone with the wind | |
Gone with the wind, gone with the wind | |
Chorus: | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
Put the fire to the blunt, take a sip of the hen | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
On my homies dead, gone with the wind | |
Gone with the wind | |
2x | |
Too many niggas smile in my face and back stab | |
I' m left throwing niggas in the trunk and kidnap | |
Thugging and loving bitches obsessed with this mob shit | |
Niggas thinking they moving | |
And bailing out the cut with the quickness | |
Suckers be blind to this real shit, we bring the pain | |
Bossalini, fetty chico, shiznilti still in the game | |
Immortalized forever, having my homies up in the grave | |
Thinking back on when i used to drank yac in my younger days | |
Bust the twelve gauge shotty, too young to buy liquor | |
Little bad ass niggas grew up to be mob figures | |
Living life on a razor cars, money and bitches | |
Niggas plotting to kill us, coming in coupes in a milli' s | |
We go to war il they feel us, bury they ass on the realest | |
not sure what is said eliminate you for scrilla | |
Niggas dying on the frontline | |
Spending most of they life ducking the one time, no sunshine | |
In the world of sin, from the gutter to the pen | |
Got me swimming in the game with a brim on my shark' s fin | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
For my homies dead and gone in the wind | |
Gone with the wind | |
Chorus | |
I ain' t no bitch but if you bone me i' m coming | |
Running double trying to murder something | |
Eyes red and heart pumping | |
Serving niggas out the back of the caddy | |
Hitting corners, | |
Ain' t no love for you snitch ass niggas in california | |
Ducking suckers and shady bitches, scheming to gaffle riches | |
Niggas living fictitious, running game and selling fishes | |
Paranoia of surveillance vans watching me close | |
Nigga ? dreams died back in ' 94 | |
Suckers laid down my homey, i just had to get off | |
Can' t be acting like no bitch nigga, because war is raw | |
They say nice guys finish last and the good die young | |
Too many real niggas put to death by the hand of the gun | |
Sitting on my old block reminiscing again | |
On my homies dead and gone in the wind | |
Gone with the wind, gone with the wind | |
Gone with the wind, gone with the wind | |
Gone with the wind | |
Chorus 3x |