Still Here

(álbum: The Phoenix - 2006)

[Lyfe Jennings:]
It's that man again, haha
Some people refer to him as a hustla
Pimp, or playa

Street life killed my daddy
Got my momma pregnant in the back of a caddy
Since I lost my first tooth, I ain't been happy
Young, wild, nigga child, why that boy is so nappy
(He got the devil in him)
Police wanna take him down
Used to be a playa but the coochie cost money
He ain't too bright, but he know a trap when he see one
Got his conscious in his pants with his gun

Seventeen years of rain
Fogging up my windows, yeah
Hear the man? It done been seventeen years of pain
But I'm still here though
Ohhhhh
Seventeen years of rain
Fogging up my window, yeah
Hear the man? It done been seventeen years of pain
But I'm still here though
Ohhhhh

Shoe box full of pictures
All that's left of good times I stayed with my niggas
Some alive and some no longer with us
How the, how the, how the hell do you pray for forgiveness
(When you got devil in you)
Rogaine keeps the hair strong (haha)
But cocaine keeps the cable on
I can't wait till my nigga JB come home
Why do all the real niggas stay gone so long

Seventeen years of rain
Fogging up my windows, yeah
Hear the man? It done been seventeen years of pain
But I'm still here though
Ohhhhh
Seventeen years of rain
Fogging up my window, yeah
Hear the man? It done been seventeen years of pain
But I'm still here though
Ohhhhh

[Project Pat:]
What? What? Yessir
Even though a nigga still in the hoo-oo-ood
Getting drunk and smoking on woo-oo-ood
I'mma make it up outta this street life
On the corner is where I stoo-oo-ood
Out there all by my-self, cause a playa gotta get this mil
Wearing fur ain't doing us no good, flipping burgers ain't gon' make you filled
But I'm still ten-toes in this, hustling tryna make it hood-rich
And I still ain't trusting no bitch, cause the motherfucka's always snitch
It's hard in this ghetto man, fifteen years old wit' coke and 'cain
Cheese don't come, I'mma go insane, snatch me a purse, snatch me a chain
Out here on the block, wit' the fiends and the moon, squeeze on the Glock, tryna pop at a goon
He done stole me dough, he took my food, Project wasn't born wit' a silver spoon
In my mouth, in my grille, wearing six chains, then niggas get killed
One in the grave, the other in jail, nobody wins, that's for real

[DJ Paul:]
Back way, when I was a runny nose
Running round, up and down the town
Carrying a black Glock, and a gold frown
I kept that product on me, it wasn't no problem homie
You said it, I had it and met ya at the store for mo-ney
Just tryna buy bologna, but now I'm buying lobster
Still toting a Glock, but pushing a Rolls Royce and winning Oscars

Yeah, Three 6 Mafia, Project Pat
Lyfe Jennings
If you can believe, you can achieve
Every day above ground is a good day
Ya hear me?
Yeah

[Lyfe Jennings:]
Seventeen years of rain
Fogging up my windows, yeah
Hear the man? It done been seventeen years of pain
But, I'm still here though
Ohhhhh
Seventeen years of rain
Fogging up my window, yeah
Hear the man? It done been seventeen years of pain
But, I'm still here though
Ohhhhh