Live From The Trenches (feat. CEO)

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Twon Murdo

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You're all a bunch of fuckin' assholes, you know why
You don't have the guts to be what you wanna be
You need people like me so you can point your fuckin' fingers
I say that's the bad guy

What, I make you good
You're not good
You just know how to hide
I lie

Me, I don't have that part
Me, I always tell the truth
Even when I lie
So say goodnight to the bad guy

Listen, I got a motherfuckin' story to tell
It's about niggas in the trenches with they soul to sell
It's about bitches in position to be hoes for real
Stuck in conditions where they kids is on the road to jail

Hell, that's where we dwell on the daily
And we merch it on our baby when niggas be talkin' crazy
Like a dog with the rabies, I be bitin' on you bitches
Cause you hoes be finessin', finaglin' for the riches

Yeah, yeah, I'm the voice of the real niggas
The ones who acknowledge the shooters, not the bad shitters
The scammers, the looters, the motherfuckin' bad getters
The by any means necessary ass niggas

You might see me in a shootout with the Jakes
Skirt off and get away and twist the motherfuckin' rakes
I love few but bar none, get a bag and buy guns
Twist my motherfuckin' fingers, I'm the motherfuckin' one

Report live from the trench, from the hood with the stench
We products of Willie Lynch, pack a hammer and a wrench
Like we bout to go to work, watch the niggas with the smirk
They a hurt, they a merc, leave you niggas in the dirt

Report live from the trench, from the hood with the stench
We products of Willie Lynch, pack a hammer and a wrench
Like we bout to go to work, watch the niggas with the smirk
They a hurt, they a merc, leave you niggas in the dirt

Report live from the struggle, I met my brother when my pops died
When everybody left, I stayed down like it was shots flying
When the dad made that, when Dana died, my heart died
Scooter died, crew died, when freak died, the hood cried

Ralph gone, Sonya gone, I think I got it held on
It's like I got on me, I be in your face like a cell phone
Project pain gold chains, I used to sell cocaine
Without them cuts, I stuck to it like a band-aid

Papa came from London, I stopped in Paris and got it handmade
Hopping in the trenches, drinking beers like it's champagne
Little niggas shooting, they recruiting, at a young age
13, 14, 15 shots, he was 14, going on 15 when he got shot

13, 14, 15 shots, he was 14, going on 15 when he got shot
Report live from the trench, from the hood with the stench
We products of Willie Lynch, pack a Hammer and the wrench
Like we bout to go to work, watch the niggas with the smirk

They a hurt, they a merc, leave you niggas in the dirt
Report live from the trench, from the hood with the stench
We products of Willie Lynch, Paco Hammer and the Rench
Like we bout to go to work, watch the niggas with the smirk

They a hurt, they a merc, leave you laying in the dirt
The last time you gonna see a bad guy like this again, let me tell you

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