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Lyfe Jennings

Genres: Hip-Hop

Catalina Lyrics - Lyfe Jennings

I grew up on the foul side 

Nickel-bag valcyte 

Purple tops, two for fives 

I had seven grams 

Outside with my eleven mans 

On the corners with a pocket full of contrabands 

Running up and down fire-escapes, narcs coming 

Jump in the window let your Nikes fly, hide the flakes 

Guess up in the hill it was real to me 

What a nigga woulda did if you steal from me 

All my life around drug niggas villains who want millions 

Niggas with them hoodies on with teks in the building 

Mad fiends, bags and green, Gillette razors, fly neighbors 

All our blazers designer jeans 

That's why we live (yup) 

Niggas need shit in their crib 

Go broke, you go and rope you a Vick 

It's just full-time stragglers 

Niggas try to take your place 

And smile in your face 

But still in all backstabbers 

 

I'm just trying to get on 

Leave a couple mil to my kids when I'm gone 

And nigga that ain't cologne 

It's the smell of this money 

I'm just trying to get home 

'Cause I don't know when my karma gonna catch up 

I don't know when the toilet gonna back up 

And put me in some shit that I can't get out of 

 

Come on 

Bags of money 

Trying to stay rich and fly 

Keep it cool, silks and dungarees 

Krug glasses and food 

Grilled salmon, trying to make a move 

Those who knowing they be dapping they dudes 

How it do blow a lot of crews stay in the cut 

Pacing from here to LA and Hawaii and Cuba 

Blue new oozie too serial numbers is braille 

So when you rub against it feel on (?) 

Now I'm with some special niggas, next level niggas 

With rubber bezels who drive Exeleros with jewels 

(?) boots on, olive goose, calamari soups 

And noodles that spell out "Y'all niggas the truth" 

What it is baby boy, reclining in a big Benz lazy boy 

Ends up, lenses on, Chips Ahoy 

Shipping triple, niggas try to stop the issue 

And cock-block but can't stop the official 

 

I'm just trying to get on 

Leave a couple mil to my kids when I'm gone 

And nigga that ain't cologne 

It's the smell of this money 

I'm just trying to get home 

'Cause I don't know when my karma gonna catch up 

I don't know when the toilet gonna back up 

And put me in some shit that I can't get out of 

Writer:

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