Wug, Koolie - Bob Ross Lyrics

When them times get hard you got to grind
Get off ya ass & go & get that dough
Remember all them bad times on your mind about them cold nights out here sleeping on the floor
Man this life we live
Niggas rather hug the block than see their kids
Would you love me if I did that bid
Never stressing just contemplating the consequences
When the judge give that sentence letters would you send them
Old fools was once young fools
Still make our own rules
We made men
Sun up to sun down real niggas making moves
We get it in get rich or die trying lord please forgive my sins
On the north I feel like money mitch
Her complexion of dussé but shea butter be her scent
Still pimping nigga fuck you thought huh
Money in my pockets cause the limp nigga fuck what you bought
So many lost souls in the hood I pray they Rest In Peace
Ain't no peace of mind when you run these streets
Till then we scrape the bowl just to feed our family huh
Got to feed our family ew