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Make It Home Video (MV)




Performed By: Bobby Grand
Length: 3:50
Written by: Bobby James, Jr. Pope




Bobby Grand - Make It Home Lyrics




(Da-Da-Da-Damn BILI You Killin Em)

Step outside
All I see is niggas
Wassup nigga?
Keep steppin
Can't f*ck with them!
They got no rationale
Yea we both holdin
But they got the .40 Cal
I'm just holdin my dreams
Nice cars and things
A couple million in the bank
F*ck you think?
I wanna stay here forever with the dopeheads
Where the OGS and dealers?
Oh they both dead
Either that or chained!
Focus
Here come the train
Gotta skip to the back
Cuz I ain't got no change
Nope
Dead plan
There go a super cop
Can't afford a Uber
And it's two blocks til the next stop
F*ck I look like chasin this nigga
Chocking on train dust
While I race this nigga
I ask him for a ride
He told me what the fare is
So I grab on my nuts
Yea, fare this
Tighten up the strings on my Jays
You guessed it
One foot in front the other til I Exit
Bout to be late to my job
So I texted it
Boss hit me back like cool
Now I'm stressin
Cause when she say cool
It's never chill
Now I gotta hear her damn mouth
You lucky I got bills
Phone, cable and rent
Plus a couple meals
I gotta elevate
This shit for the birds for real
A bunch of zombies
In our good clothes
"Hey I'm lookin for blank"
When I hit ya telephone
Rent late but I'm callin to collect ya bills
Applying pressure
Like I don't know how the f*ck that feels
Damn
I always wanted to
Stand up on that desk and
Scream: kiss my ass
Like I got no f*cks lefts
Instead, I play my role
And, stay up in my zone
8 hours left, then I can hit the road!

I'm just tryna make it home
I'm just tryna make it home
A 20 somethin, Black Man in America
I'm just tryna make it home
I'm just tryna make it home
Momma said take yo ass straight to the house
Boy you better make it home
I'm just tryna make it home
Daddy said don't you hang out with that nigga boy YOU BETTER MAKE IT!

Step outside
I see my nigga
Wassup nigga?
This the new whip?
Ok I see you
Back of my mind I'm thinkin
How the f*ck he afford it
He don't even on a toilet
I proceed to ride Shotgun
Jealousy
Cause I want
But ain't got one
Damn these leather seats nice
And it's super charged
You left the dealership lookin like a superstar
Ay this song slap
Wait, turn that shit down
There go a black and White
Know they be trippin on this side of town
And they Turning around
I'm tryna click the seatbelt
Scared as f*ck
He's stone faced
But I know I how he felt
Buss a left, look in the mirror
See if he trailing
Homie keep screaming out
I can't go to jail man
And my pockets is empty
No bail
Put me under the cell
Jury lookin at me like oh well
Hell nah
I can't end up like they typical
Nigga
Put this shit 5th
Let's see what the engine do
Text mom, I love her
Just in case
I don't even have a record
But I'm Tay K, doin the race
Switching lanes, getting lucky
We ain't hittin shit
This why I be solo
How I get in this predicament
Hundred and 20 down the highway
If we don't die, bitch I want my FADE!
I'm just tryna make it home!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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(Da-Da-Da-Damn BILI You Killin Em)

Step outside
All I see is niggas
Wassup nigga?
Keep steppin
Can't f*ck with them!
They got no rationale
Yea we both holdin
But they got the .40 Cal
I'm just holdin my dreams
Nice cars and things
A couple million in the bank
F*ck you think?
I wanna stay here forever with the dopeheads
Where the OGS and dealers?
Oh they both dead
Either that or chained!
Focus
Here come the train
Gotta skip to the back
Cuz I ain't got no change
Nope
Dead plan
There go a super cop
Can't afford a Uber
And it's two blocks til the next stop
F*ck I look like chasin this nigga
Chocking on train dust
While I race this nigga
I ask him for a ride
He told me what the fare is
So I grab on my nuts
Yea, fare this
Tighten up the strings on my Jays
You guessed it
One foot in front the other til I Exit
Bout to be late to my job
So I texted it
Boss hit me back like cool
Now I'm stressin
Cause when she say cool
It's never chill
Now I gotta hear her damn mouth
You lucky I got bills
Phone, cable and rent
Plus a couple meals
I gotta elevate
This shit for the birds for real
A bunch of zombies
In our good clothes
"Hey I'm lookin for blank"
When I hit ya telephone
Rent late but I'm callin to collect ya bills
Applying pressure
Like I don't know how the f*ck that feels
Damn
I always wanted to
Stand up on that desk and
Scream: kiss my ass
Like I got no f*cks lefts
Instead, I play my role
And, stay up in my zone
8 hours left, then I can hit the road!

I'm just tryna make it home
I'm just tryna make it home
A 20 somethin, Black Man in America
I'm just tryna make it home
I'm just tryna make it home
Momma said take yo ass straight to the house
Boy you better make it home
I'm just tryna make it home
Daddy said don't you hang out with that nigga boy YOU BETTER MAKE IT!

Step outside
I see my nigga
Wassup nigga?
This the new whip?
Ok I see you
Back of my mind I'm thinkin
How the f*ck he afford it
He don't even on a toilet
I proceed to ride Shotgun
Jealousy
Cause I want
But ain't got one
Damn these leather seats nice
And it's super charged
You left the dealership lookin like a superstar
Ay this song slap
Wait, turn that shit down
There go a black and White
Know they be trippin on this side of town
And they Turning around
I'm tryna click the seatbelt
Scared as f*ck
He's stone faced
But I know I how he felt
Buss a left, look in the mirror
See if he trailing
Homie keep screaming out
I can't go to jail man
And my pockets is empty
No bail
Put me under the cell
Jury lookin at me like oh well
Hell nah
I can't end up like they typical
Nigga
Put this shit 5th
Let's see what the engine do
Text mom, I love her
Just in case
I don't even have a record
But I'm Tay K, doin the race
Switching lanes, getting lucky
We ain't hittin shit
This why I be solo
How I get in this predicament
Hundred and 20 down the highway
If we don't die, bitch I want my FADE!
I'm just tryna make it home!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Bobby James, Jr. Pope
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Bobby Grand

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