Trapped Streets (feat. Ox Logan)

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J Truth

2:47

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Yeah, I'm trapped in my city streets
First 48, uh, ayy
I sit back and reminisce about them better days
Some homies didn't make it out, locked up or in the grave

24-7 I'm looking over my shoulder, which way
I know that Reaper coming for me any day
Really couldn't stand my pops, got used to hearing shots
Baby mama trippin', don't know if she want me or not

I'm all by myself, sometimes I feel scared
its a lot of people dying, shouldn't I feel scared
First 48 is where I dwell, yeah, it's hell
Niggas getting shot, their body count keep piling up

I get so lost, please help me, Lord
It's a drought in my city, don't really need pity
Death before dishonor, yeah, I live by
Five homies gone this year, alone will I be number six

I get so sick, my mind playing tricks on me
I can't sleep at night, I still dream of death
Every morning I'm up, I feel blessed
I think this weed helping me with my stress

I love my niggas to death
Praying for better days is the outcome
Seen JG get popped twice like Ricky, uh
Heart got cold, then my mind froze

Dozed off into a whole nother horror flick
First 48 where crime pays
Where them niggas bang, where them goons hang
From the garden, now we're here

I remember sleeping with the lights on out of fear
We ain't have much, but we never miss the meal
So every night I thank Allah that I'm still here
And I'ma go hard or go home, f*ck a deal

Play me sideways, get you popped like a pill
Natural born soldier, so I stay in the field
My OG said she hope I slow down, don't get killed
I told her I can't relax, ma, we got too many bills

They coming every month on the first, so I can't chill
Plus I been all around the world, and I done seen so many things
And if you had my ears and eyes, you wouldn't maintain
These niggas tough, cause they tote guns

Shoot people for fun, and I hear broke living on the run
That shit crazy, that's them little niggas that grew up with no guidance
Wilding, robbing and shooting in public housing
I grew up in the garden, my brother Nem had power

Sex, money, murder, we had shootouts every hour
Better watch who your friends, these niggas be planning sours
Get you killed today at your funeral, we're throwing flowers
That's what I call a coward

Throwing rocks behind your hand, instead of facing off with your rival
Ain't nobody straight, hey that's the street code
And love will get you killed, no I'm in beast mode, nigga

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