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Life Of Sin

by Styles P

[Verse 1]
Waking up in a cold sweat, thinkin about my bro's death
I'm so stressed, I'm tryna do right but always go left
Supposed death was callin for me
Lurkin around blocks and corners for me
Pain before the glory
I can tell this sort of story, n*gga I came from it
I got my name from it, I ain't ashamed of it
Livin on these hard streets so you know how my heart beats
The scars deep, I lost sleep, having dreams that I squashed beef
From far east, from livin well
It broke my mother's heart – I had to sit in jail
Prayin that I get some mail, waitin for my ship to sail
I found out n*ggas pray for yo sh*t to fail
That's why you quick to tell
Me, I'm on a different scale
If you blind then you put your fingertips to braille
Hammers hit the nails, nails close the coffin on em
Man I tripped and fell, clientele's coughin on em
That's the ghetto n*gga

[Hook]
I hear you motherf*ckers talk about it
But I'm steady seein bodies with the motherf*ckin chalk around it
And since my life is based on sinning I'm hell bound
And all of this to me is a mystery
I hear you motherf*ckers talk about it
But I'm steady seein bodies with the motherf*ckin chalk around it
(Rest In Peace, Rest In Peace)

[Verse 2]
Waking up out a bad dream, hearing bullets and mad screams
Kids cryin, they can't help but watchin they dad lean
Bullets in his stomach, he's putting pressure, the wound's bad
So the n*gga runnin these on a stretcher, it's too fast
Who'd he have to punish to get him next on that newsflash
Yesterday I've seen two fiends go in that dude's stash
Just another day, that's what my mother say
You know that gun will spray on that day the opposite crews clash
On the jack with my people, see had a small beef
Was caught asleep, he got robbed by them n*ggas across street
And now he walk the shotty and trench coat
I used to see him servin them fiends on a bench dope
Now he step into a new arena
When n*ggas will smoke you out of your new Adidas
If you're not his true believer
Me – I keep a crew of leaders
Infrared beam on the newest heaters
Don't be foolish either

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
n*ggas sufferin deadly
Really, the streets is a circus, brought em in Bentleys
Shootin out like it's really
Duckin behind that Volkswagen
These slow n*ggas, they bodybag em and toetag em
You won't find them
All my n*ggas approach fashion
Durag, black raiders how they both imagine
Keep your dough stackin, jersey, Beau Jackson, no slackin
You want me dead? It won't happen
So don't ask em, yea

I hear you motherf*ckers talk about it
But I'm steady seein bodies with the motherf*ckin chalk around it
And since my life is based on sinning I'm hell bound