Freeway › Lyrics › What We Do...

Man, if I get rocked, this s*** for my kids, nigga
It's that real s***

Even though what we do is wrong

We still hustle 'til the sun come up
Crack a 40 when the sun go down
It's a cold winter, y'all niggaz better bundle up
An' I bet, it be a hotter summer, grab a onion

Yes, the ROC gets down, you hot now, listen up
Don't you know cops whole purpose is to lock us down
An' throw away the key?
But without this drug s***
Your kids ain't got no way to eat, huh?
(Even though what we do is wrong)

We still try to keep Mom smilin'
'Coz when the teeth stop showin' an' the stomach start growlin'
Then the heat start flowin'
If you from the hood, I know you feel me, keep goin'

If a sneak start leanin' an' the heat stop workin'
Then my heat start workin', I'ma rob me a person
Catch a nigga sleepin' while he out in the open
An' I'ma get him, keep flowin'
(Even though what we do is wrong)

We gotta raise our kids while we livin'
Make a million off a record, bail my niggaz outta prison
F*** a Bentley or a Lexus, just my boys in the squadder
Nigga, talk reckless then I hit 'em with the Smith &

But I'm never snitchin', I'm a rider
If my kids hungry, snatch the dishes out ya kitchen
I'll be wylin' 'til they pick me outta line-up
Even though what we do is wrong

We keep the nines tucked, chopped dimes up, rap about it
Wyle out, f*** niggaz up, laugh about it
I'm not tryin' to visit the morgue
But Freeway move out 'til I sit with the Lord

'Til I get my s*** together, clean up my sins
Freeway got it in like 10 in the mornin'
An' I can get it to ya like 10 while you yawnin', man
Even though what we do is wrong

Still deliver the order, man
An' I ain't talkin' 'bout chicken an' gravy, man
I'm talkin' 'bout bricks 'o yayo, halves an' quarters
4 an' a halves of hash, you do the math

Swing past us, scoop up your daughter
She wanna roll wit' a thug that rap, you do the math
He won't blast 'til my stacks in order, man
Man, lemme get 'em, Free
(Even though what we do is wrong)

Hov' never slackin', man, zippin' in the black Range
Faster than the Red Ghost, gettin' ghost wit' Pac Man
One time, know a got a knack to get that change
Leader of the black gang, R O C, man

Bang like T-Mac, ski mask, air it out
Gotta kill witnesses 'coz Free's beard's stickin' out
Y'all don't want no witness s***, we squeeze hammers, man
Bullets breeze by you, like Louisiana, man
(Even though what we do is wrong)

But I gotta feed Tianna, man
So I move keys, you can call me the 'Piano Man'
Rain, sleet, hail, snow, man
Slang, dough, E, hydro, man

No, B. Sige in the third lane
Gramps still prayin', workin on my nerves, man
Like, "Son, you gotta get your soul clean
Before they blow them horns like Coltrane"
(Even though what we do is wrong)

But still I cry tears of a hustler
Wipe tears from my mother, pull out beers for her brothers
That's above us, make beds for the babies
Tuck kids under covers, buy cribs for their mothers

S***, I'll probably be wylin' with their fathers
Tell Ms. Robert, tell Enijah that I'm ridin' for her father
That's like my brother, like same mother, different father
Any problems, dog, know I got 'em
(Even though what we do is wrong)

An' still we grind from the bottom
Just to make it to the bottom, sold crack in the alleyways
Still gave back Marcy a 'Dollar Day'
Real gangstas make hood holidays

They ain't thank us but we still paid homage, man
Soul Food Sunday lookin' like Big Momma's, man
Tell the gang I never break my promise, man, man
(Even though what we do is wrong)

Even though what we do is wrong