DOLLAWATER - TRENCHEZ Lyrics

La-di-da-di-da-da-da
La-di-da-di-da-da-da

Yeah, Bokey, what it is?
Yo, G-Ville, what it is?
Yo, Tallanasty, what it is?
Yo, Duval, what it is?
Yo, Pinch Gut, what it is?
Yo, Opa Locka, what it is?
DOLLAWATER in this

Look, I remember [bleep] On the corner slangin' water, yeah
Serve a juug Pepsi when he ordered coca-cola, yeah
Smoking California, 32s of that corona, yeah
In my white tee, wood tips & Arizonas, yeah
On my 21st, my mama loaned me a Toyota yeah
Made it half an hour before them boys pulled me over
Skrrting on the shoulder, somewhere in Osceola
Trunk full of some hol'up and a baggy of that y-y-y-yoda, yeah
I was just another skinny nigga tryna find some weight
If it went south, grandmama house the hideaway
It's a dicey game, niggaz die for chainz, cuz our minds enslaved,
It's the price we pay 'til we see a higher place
They say life a [scream], every single night we heard her cry
We just tryna live, but the last to shoot, first to die
Cold water under bridges so we keep that furnace high
Steady diggin' in them trenchez 'til the well start runnin' dry, nigga

Aye, aye
Livin' everyday tired, tired of livin'
Black faces whippin' white in the kitchen
Cotton pickin', we just diggin' in the trenchez
Pockets laced with presidents, pursue your riches
Black faces whippin' white in the kitchen
Cotton pickin', we just diggin' in the trenchez

I remember mama making visits to the coroner
Coming home late, cryin' to the point she throw in' up
Krippy in a blunt, bloodshoted in the cornea
Hit a couple bumps, but she never went to court for none
On my 23rd is when my father started showin' up
Pocket full of stones and my papa was a rolling one
Taught me keep my ear to the streets, eyes swollen shut
If you see something, say nothing, that's the modus, son
Known to keep an oz of that og and a pint of dirty sprite
Moving lowkey with my woadie on a multi-purpose flight
With them hojas and pistolas, murkin' every bird in sight
Going loca for the yola, they should all be servin' life
Wouldn't even hurt a fly, but I keep that burner by
Never catch a nigga lackin' on a black suburban night
Cold water under bridges so we keep that furnace high
Still diggin' in the trenches til' the well is runnin' dry, nigga

Aye, aye
Livin' everyday tired, tired of livin'
Black faces whippin' white in the kitchen
Cotton pickin', we just diggin' in the trenchez
Pockets laced with presidents, pursue your riches
Black faces whippin' white in the kitchen
Cotton pickin', we just diggin' in the trenchez

So long, so long
(la-di-da-di-da-da-da
La-di-da-di-da-da-da)
So long, so long
(la-di-da-di-da-da-da
La-di-da-di-da-da-da)

I'm tired of this, grandpa
Well that's too damn bad!