Hard Life (feat. Juvenile & Lil' Wayne) Lyrics

[Baby]
For sure, lil' one
I know what you're goin' through to shine
Niggas pullin' off all type of shit
But, look: if you don't know what you're doin',
you'd better catch the sideline
Catch the sidelineNigga, the block look the same - it's just crack and cocaine
Niggas losin' but we still maintainin'
Livin' life like a penitentiary with a ki in my hand
Knockin' project bricks
Flippin' chickens, and movin' out quick
Hard-hustlin' 'cause we love slingin' this white shit
S.S., Monte Carlo's, hard-tops - we love that shit
'Bout two-hundred thugs with this clique
We multiply everyday for the bullshit
For the hood shit
Burned down buildin's ain't no good, slick
Niggas pullin' auctions on they own cars to get money quick

Then we dippin' and dabbin'
Goin' back to the labbin'
Lil' niggas payin' me for cookin' they slabbin'
Cook a brick and make it out a brick-and-halfin'
Chargin' them young g's ten G's for cookin' they slabs
Say, lil' wodie, I gots to have it[Chorus - 4x (Juvenile)]
It's a hard life we livin' - they 'bout they drama
We earn stripes from killin' - attack like piranhas[Lil' Wayne]
Look
Look
On the streets it ain't sweet
They be
It's not a game, homeboy - this ain't the NFL
Him just from rippin' with the mid-deck twelve
Hit the block in twin-SL's, and spit at gals
You get that, pal?
Once it's war, nigga, skip town
'Cause if I don't do it, be swimmin' with fish, clown
Now, crack a whole chick down, sell it in quarters
If the drama happen to hit town, I'm 'nappin' your daughter
If the broad try to flip out, I'm cuttin' her water
If your boys try to help out, I'm killin' they fathers
When and wherever
What and however - you bring it good
I'll have your mom singin' "Hmmm hmm hmmm"
Cause nowadays lot of niggas got coward ways
So I ride with K's to knock off the side of heads
But I'm tryin' to stay man, I'm tryin' to stay focused
What I'm tryin' to say we gon' bust it wide open![Chorus - 4x (Juvenile)][Mannie Fresh]
What
What
Pimps, playas, riders, rollers, hustlers
Gangstas, thugs, criminal motherfuckers
Hit it, quit it, fuck it, leave it, flee
No evidence at your residence - that's me
Black, ugly, mean, sheisty bastard
Preachers and teachers sayin', "I'm surprised you lasted."
Guns, drugs, bitches hot sex
Weed, crack, heroin - what's next?
Feds, cops, killers politicians
Hookers, hoes, all on missions
Crooks, mayors, presidents, and leaders
N-double-A-CP, rednecks, and meat beaters
Mommas, baby-mommas, aunties and cousins
Scatter sites, knocked-out lights, projects by the dump
And cars, broads, murders ghetto life
I went through all that shit
for platinum ringers and a little bit of ice[Chorus - 4x (Juvenile)][Juvenile]
I've been blessed
I thank the Lord everyday
for gettin' me from 'round these devils in these dark hallways
How the fuck you gonna help me when I don't care?
Niggas see me front it all - they just look and stare
And talk about how it should be and how it could be
Bentley in my basement - ain't nobody understood me
Take care of your people like you take care of your kids
'Cause money ain't shit when you don't know how to live
And niggas gon' pretend to be your friend when they ain't
You expect 'em to be there until the end, but they can't
Now, how many of you can say you're a real nigga?
Play the Prowler, but scared to go in the field with ya
You gon' know your nigga - he gon' be there, still with ya
Whether if it's talkin' or slingin' the steal with ya
Don't answer nobody questions
Gotta turn to the Lord with a confession[Chorus - 4x (Juvenile)]
Songwriters
HUGH, GRAYSON JOHNPublished by
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.