Lucky Luciano, 2003
Kno wat I'm sayin.
Putting it down
(this game, this game fucked up)
Still spitting game.
[Verse 1:]
Show love, don't hate
Be a player, this only cool,
Yo cause don't wait for the paper to come to you,
Gotta match for the cash,
That's so much these days,
Hand guns we praise,
Packs of blunts we blaze,
Where I'm from streets race,
Children have to be slaves,
For the almighty dollar,
This shit got me hollering father
Come and get us foreal
The government tryna kill us,
It's even worse for my people on the other side of the river,
We in the middle where the war all stuck in the game,
Slugs fly, mother cry
They don't want it to change,
They making money right now off my best friend maine,
Since he was 17 he been a prison inmate,
He's 21 now can't wait till he's out again,
Yeah I sneek him in that killa weed every now and then,
I know I'm a hit that weed every day to calm my nerves
I can imagine being in there and without no herb
That's fucked up,
Man gotta keep your head up,
I do this shit for ya'll
Nothing but respect and love,
I'm a mexican thug,
In a lexus on dubs (what)
Still in the hood that's infested with drugs,
Got a vest on my chest for protection when I roll,
But I know this shit useless one day I gotta go,
Till then boy I'm,
Keep my hand on guns,
Houston where I come from now tell me who wants some?
[Chorus:]
Man this foreal this game is so wrong (so wrong)
We ain't doing nothing but chasing a lost cause (lost cause)
Yeah you ain't trippin but one day you might fall (u might fall)
And then when they hate, it's all gone
(and then when they hate it's all gone)
[Verse 2:]
Still in the hood with the rest of the thugs,
It's understood I'm in the ghetto where they selling the drugs,
You got a dollar you can get yourself a handlebar pill,
With $100 you can get a quarter pound of the kill,
50 pack an x with only $500 dollars,
If your smart with your product
You can double your profit,
I know boys that sells keys if you like to slang cane,
But be careful cause they might jack it back the same day,
Dressed up in cop uniforms kicking though your door,
(boom)
You think you getting raided till you wake up on the floor,
Money and your stash gone,
You wanted to blast huh?
It's funny your gat's gone
Need something to grasp on,
Go outside and see the smokers on the block,
But they ain't saying shit cause they focused on the rock,
Man they probably got broke off a piece of your shit,
Next time you do a deal you should be peepin the shit,
Now that's real talk coming from a real hawk,
Be about your paper playa watch out for them laws,
Keep your eyes on the prize
Over here the game dirty,
Spitting game in your ear but I know they ain't heard me
[Chorus:]
Man this foreal this game is so wrong (so wrong)
We ain't doing nothing but chasing a lost cause (lost cause)
Yeah you ain't trippin but one day you might fall (u might fall)
And then when they hate, it's all gone
(and then when they hate it's all gone)
[Verse 3:]
We was broke as a joke
Come though that by smoking sacks,
All we needed was weed to smoke
And a grey cassete to jam,
Wake up in the morning talkin about who got 5 on kill? (what)
Because we dealed with pain by staying higher than a hill,
Everyday is a struggle
Police hate on my hustle,
If they catch me doin bad I'm up state on the double,
Fuck a school and a rule,
I was expelled on the kool,
So I ain't got shit left to do but sell dope and make my tunes,
So that number one spot, nigga lucky wanting it,
When I get it haterz probably gone kill me for flaunting it,
But I gotta apply & skeam
For that million dollar dream,
Green make-up on the fean
I'm a playa on the lean, (what)
Gotta stack it up cause all my life I've had it rough,
Nigga motherfuck money cause I will never have enough,
I remember back before them hoes used to laugh at luck,
Cause my pockets didn't have shit but a phone and a rhyme and half a blunt.
[Chorus:]
Man this foreal this game is so wrong (so wrong)
We ain't doing nothing but chasing a lost cause (lost cause)
Yeah you ain't trippin but one day you might fall (u might fall)
And then when they hate, it's all gone
(and then when they hate it's all gone)
Lucky Luciano, born Salvatore Lucania but also known as Charles Luciano, was an influential figure in the American Mafia. Born in Lercara Friddi, Sicily, in 1897, he moved to the United States with his family at the age of seven. Luciano became a key figure in organized crime during Prohibition, consolidating the control of the Cosa Nostra over activities such as alcohol smuggling and illegal gambling. In 1936, he was convicted of drug trafficking and deported to Italy. After the war, Luciano returned to the United States and continued to influence the criminal world until his death in 1962. Luciano is considered one of the founding fathers of the modern American Mafia, thanks to his role in creating a structured and centralized organization.
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