Letra de Stir - Rylo Rodriguez

Grew up in the 'jects, only thing you promised, a casket or a bunk

Gave lil' bro his flowers 'cause he ain’t tell, he got like sixty months

He was two years in, I had took it back 'cause he had fucked a ponk

They was saying, “He lost his mind,” I don’t think he did, they was talkin' 'bout Lamont

Kel got an elbow, he had three strikes, I wish he would've bunt

They kept shootin' Lil J mama house up, that's how he got his L

His family sick of divin' on the floor, little sister ain't even care

Facetimin' with my cousin, he up the road, they had made him cut his hair

You supposed to be in this big-ass house with us, but you in there

You ask me if I be goin' to see your children, can't lie, here and there

But I send your BM money every holiday to get them something to wear

I don't never wish jail upon no man, but I knew how Ty was livin'

They whacked him, he wasn't even home a whole year, wish bro would've stayed in prison

My uncle told on Duke, he in Georgia, he ain't get a day

My lawyer say, “Lil Duke 'bout to come home,” but he ain't get a date

I cried like a ho when they killed Tyrone, he tried to hit a play

Ain't get your letter, you say I was actin' funny, but I ain’t Desi Banks

If a nigga take the feds to trial, it always end bad

How I'm supposed to tell my bro his ho been out here gettin' dragged?

Hope Skooby lawyer can find a mistake in the case, I'm just curious

Say the feds was lookin' for him, it was Homeland Security

They took a Patek off my wrist, put shackles on my hand

Had to turn myself in in my prime, I feel like Deion Sanders

JoJo locked up, doin' twenty-five, won't tell how he on the 'Gram

People in his background get to rappin' 'cause they know who I am

My day one was talkin' 'bout me before he went to jail, fucked with my head

But I can't let him sit without no lawyer, even after what he said

How GWAY gon' look at me?

How the hell Ayesha gon' look at me?

Made it through them drug busts, look at me

Know how the D.A. gon' look at me

Remember waitin' for trial for two years, it's fucked up how they playin'

The way he go to sleep, he get a rag, tie a knife around his hand

Know she be fuckin' just when I call, pick up the phone for me

(I was talkin' to my bunkie, he told me how his fiancée had just wrote him)

Say his wife sent him a letter and sprayed perfume on it

Gotta hang a bedspread on the wall, when you gotta take a shit

Ain't nothing cool about it, and you a sucker, you ain't even take your lick (Yeah)

I always wanted to be like Lil Jermaine, he was spoiled as it get

Saw him last month, he was at the store, he asked for eighty cents

When his girl cheated, he ain't want to go to court, he say he sick

Can’t believe bro facin' all that time and worried 'bout a chick

How GWAY gon' look at me?

How the hell Ayesha gon' look at me?

Made it through them drug busts, look at me

Know how the D.A. gon' look at me

Now the C.O. gon' look at me

Give a fuck how the P.O. gon' look at me

Cut his hair off, he got court this week

Hope a nigga change, 'cause how your honor gon' look at me?

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