[Talking]
Cuz I'm tellin you man, them niggas they ain't got nothing else to talk about (Nothing else)
The same shit every motherfuckin album, I dont give a damn how many you put out, you talking bout the same shit from goddamn TRU
(You done rode D's)
You got D's, candy paint, you a soldier smoking doja
(Wood grain with the leather seats)
(Mercedes) Baby, lady, baby, crazy, (mercedes!)
(I done heard that shit) 2pac wannabe ass niggas, I ain't no rapper
I write short films (O.K.) Grab your popcorn
Ain't no more sunshine
Yeah
Ain't no sunshine down here
The sun don't even shine down here
Put yourself in my shoes
Nigga imagine being in a place where the sun don't ever shine
That's where I'm at
[Verse 1]
Come on, O.K., peep it
My Tec swing low like sweet chariots
Bust him and bury him
Death be his fate, we sending flowers to they wake
And crying at they wake
And mourning with these motherfuckers' mother
But plotting out a way to kill they brother
Another nigga bled another nigga's gone be bleeding
Cuz I ain't trynna hear that shit this evening
Y'all niggas best believe in guerilla warfare
There's people cross the cemetery, how they get there
I tell ya, was this nigga from Lake Olmstead
My nigga said that he been fucking up dope since day one
So instead of pumping the shit in Olmstead
I suggest he take that stupid shit to Sunset
But naw, but naw, he wants to play bad Billy Bad Ass and shit
A flaw in my game, like I can't perform the hit
I threw on the fucking plastic bag, wrapped my hands
Around his ass and squeezed, till the nigga can't breath
Nibbling cheese up out my trap
How the fuck I'mma catch the mouse
If you bumping ya gums and steady running ya mouth
But down south I ain't no hard ass nigga
But best believe if thrill come to thriller, motherfucker I feel ya
Flash them hollow points cuz hollow points get points across
They want the juice, but they dont want to pay the cost
Now who's the boss, my nigga ask these hoes
I'm nuttin in they mouth and they nose
They eyes if they ain't closed
The lifestyle that I chose, who knows, may make me rich
But if them feds kick down them doors then life's a bitch
I'm sitting in the patty wagon thinking bout the snitch
And with my phone call, I know exactly who to hit
My niggas on Perry, we got some bodies to bury
Bust them niggas with rugers and hide them lugers with Karie
Now it's very necessary that this bid go through
Because we already know how niggas do
Ain't no motherfuckin sunshine
[Chorus - 2x]
Ain't no motherfuckin sunshine, it's only Tec-9's and clips
And niggas that's equipped for whatever
I thought you knew better but you still ran your mouth
Now you runnin from them fuckin Georgia Boys from Down South
[Verse 2]
Ain't no sunshine my nigga, the sun ain't gonna shine
Till I reach about a million, talking business with Brazilians
I got this funny feeling that I'm gone be filthy rich
And I'm gone marry money cuz money's a faithful bitch
If it ain't one thing its ten more, fuck another
Surrounded by undercovers, every time they speak they stutter
My mind be in the gutter, but thats how I burn the house
Just cuz I try to prove what these pussy niggas bout
These niggas make me shout, yea they frustrate me
Because I sell dope, I guess thats why these niggas hate me
Make me recall, think it was the fall of '96
But time don't matter niggas doing the same shit
The narcs is bout to hit, his habit made him tell
"Officer of the law," bastard crooked as hell
They lookin for Terell, mixed him up with Darrell
It's two Darrells, they hit they door with Marquel
Ringing em on the cell, told my niggas time to bail
They knew we shot them niggas they just lookin for the shells
They trying they best to nail, like Nell gimme a break
Us Cooley High niggas, us niggas is hard to take
We appreciate they bust
We appreciate they threat
We appreciate that we so smooth that they ain't caught us yet
Now Karie want respect, claim I'm doing her wrong
But my name is not Rome, I don't know where I belong
Pumping her up with these songs so so-long till all police
Get O.U.T., but first let me get my things
Told her to bring me the box with the lock that she was holding
She brought my shit downstairs, my fucking box was open
I'm holding my breath before I mothafuckin hurt her
Rambling through my shit, no shells from the murder
I asked her calmly, "Where the fuck is my shit"
("Troy thats all I had")
"What the fuck you mean bitch"
It should have been six empty bullets and my ruger
Fuck trynna explain, pop her, had to shoot her
I knew that the murders would interfere with my grinding
But what the fuck you expect if the sun ain't shining
[Chorus - 2x]
[Verse 3]
My mind is fucked up, I keep on picturing Karie's head jerking
Disturbing me while I'm working
It's clouds lurking over me, like a cartoon
Too hot on the streets, I got to stay in my room
Soon to be charged 3 murders 7 counts
A one-sentence will: "Quinzo, I leave a ounce."
Yo burn for your nigga, bout to go visit my brother
It's back to Atlanta, shit too hot in Augusta
I knew I shouldn't have trust her, thinking bout her ass
Bout 3 or 4 knocks at my door and who is that
Just that fast, niggas done ran off in my shit
Ski masks and guns and they shooting to hit
I ran upstairs to get my gat yea that mac
I'm running and ducking one grazed me cross my back
But then I reached my gat, payback, I'm bustin rockets
Ran back to the stairs threw two clips off in my pockets
His gun I heard him cock it I went to busting over there
I'm poppin on them pussy niggas--die, nigga! yea!
I popped one in his ear, told him I didn't fear nothing
Snatched the mask up off the nigga, and it's damn Karie's cousin
Then I rushed into the bathroom, then turned off the lights
I heard somebody's footsteps approaching to my right
Now bullets taking flight, I'm bustin in all directions
I laid in the tub praying for my protection
The hit was to perfection, I was fucked up in the game
While laying in the tub I heard them niggas calling my name
My 6'3" frame to be filled with bullet holes
If I gotta leave, some more of them has gots to go
I ran back to the stairs and went the busting with mine
At some bastards Tec-9, but they laid in line
And I was fine
Shit went to the phone to call Greg
Boom, Boom. Done took two to the head
It ain't no fuckin sunshine!
