Lost with Guns - Tyrese, J. Wells, Nicole Wray

Black Ty and Nicole Wray got something to say man

Lets go

It ain’t worth it man just put that shit down

I know you wanna hold me down but it ain’t that serious man

Let me talk to you for a minute

Listen

I applaud you for being the breadwinner of the family

I applaud you for beating on niggas who couldn’t stand me

I applaud you for being who you be to the block

But i dont care too much for niggas holdin' the Glock

Broke be the reason that you wearing them shoes

Broke be the reason you say fuck the rules

Broke be the reason that you get that urge

Broke be the reason that you flippin them birds

Manhood be the reason the reason that you carry the Glock

Manhood be the reason that you rob the spot

Manhood be the reason I keep stealing these cars

Manhood be the reason I’m behind these bars

I talk to God all the time but he never talk back

So I’m forced to communicate with these guns and crack

I refuse to crack even though I’m at a all time low

Lemme drink a 5th of courage and rob a store

But what’s in store for a nigga with a quick come-up

Thats why you gotta put the guns up

State of mind got you running wild

I see you lost your confidence in your one-two punch

Thats why you running around lost with guns (Sing to 'em)

You’re just lost with guns (You're just lost)

Now if the shoe fits, wear it dont take it off yet

And i ain’t made it through the song yet

A couple blunts will make it go away temporarily

Soon as it fades away i drink a fifth of Hennessy

I think its fucked up that reality has got the best of me

I’m praying i dont have to wake up (?)

My homies ain’t there my mom ain’t there my pops ain’t there

Because nobody cares

They quick to blame a nigga for all the guns and violence

But ain’t no one around to give a nigga some guidance

Throughout childhood they told me i needed to make money

But as i grew up they didn’t teach me to keep money

So i made a little money and i lost a little bread

Might pay for some pussy might pay for some head

I keep a bag of lyrical carrots to help you niggas see straight

Hopefully the words of the song can get you out your old ways

If not i feel bad for you

Yeah im talkin to you i feel bad for you

Listen you be you because you can’t be me

Im done rolling 30 deep they tryna Mc Hammer me

Im an MC born into the heat of the streets

And ill be damned if i let a motherfucker hammer me

Tattoed be the city of Watts on my left wrist

I know a few niggas who’ll watch when i slice that wrist

They tell me life’s a bitch and supposedly you die and go to heaven

I was ordained to be an mc code 211

I saw my first MAC-11 at 11

A basehead was beggin for my triple o kevin

I see my nextel chirp got the federralli’s listenin'

I keep my head cocked by my cock be the position

Man I’m living in fear Mama told me bullets got no names

Because of bullets no more Biggie, Pac, and Jam Master Jay

I know you think you bout as hard as they come

If i was you i would run because we running around lost with guns

Maybe someday you’ll sit back and laugh and talk about the change

How you ain’t the same

Gotta live with regrets but for now hood niggas

Come up out the game all our victims are slain

Dont you be lost with gunz (x5)