Point A To Point B

K-rino

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    [Chorus]
    15 balls and a club to match
    A lotta these foo's keep dying for sratch
    All I wanna do is get payed for good
    But too many haters rollin thru my hood

    [Verse One]
    It's like
    I'm tryin to get from point A to point B
    Mutha fuckin feds still watching me
    I'm still on paper from my last lick
    Rough street life got me pumped up to blast quick
    2 'o clock on the block, I'm pulled over, damn it
    I red light a mile back, a cop said I ran it
    I aint a slave to a grave, I just had to send 'em
    Six shooter in my lap, I put five in 'em
    The heat iron heat defeats novacane
    To degrees where even death can't stop the pain
    Gain momentum when the heat started dumpin in 'em
    And then I'ma bit 'em like a snake when I'm pumpin venon
    The murderistic, realistic, let my fist get, deeper in his grill cuz I'm twisted
    I'ma show you, all the dirt that K-Rino do, duck, you see the type of shit I
    gots to go thru
    I'm trippin

    [Chorus]
    15 balls and a club to match
    A lotta these foo's keep dying for sratch
    All I wanna do is get payed for good
    But too many haters rollin thru my hood

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    [Verse Two]
    It's like
    I stepped in the moss back in 92
    Got the real scoop on the red, white, and blue
    It provided me with deep thoughts to rap about
    Aint no choir, cuz it aint shit to clap about
    I had a dream I was in a shootout one night
    Foo started cockin up cuz they was scared to fight
    I started to run but my feet couldn't handle the test
    I felt a sharp pain, blast right thru my chest
    I hit the ground tryin to fight for what I had left
    I felt the essence of my life remove itself
    My homeboy standing over me, cryin and shit
    I'm losing focus in my eyes and going blind and shit
    I raised up, wooo, it was only a dream
    Trippin over how realistic a vision could seem
    Was I really about to be recieved by the dirt
    How come I woke up with that blood stain on my shirt

    [Chorus]
    15 balls and a club to match
    A lotta these foo's keep dying for sratch
    All I wanna do is get payed for good
    But too many haters rollin thru my hood

    [Verse Three]
    Knowledge
    In 1555 they put us on a ship
    Thousands of miles across the water, that's a long trip
    Strip the knowledge itself, devils flip the script
    Rip the shirt off my back and commits to whip
    Murder to he or she who fought for the right to be free
    Raping the sister while they hung a brother from a tree
    Burning a body of a victim to ash and dust
    And at the same time teaching religion to us
    Emancipation proclamation
    They let us go, only to make conditions worse than they was before
    Cuz even though our asses are no longer in chains
    They wrapped a mutha fucker smooth around our brain
    Poverty stricken conditions lead to criminal shit
    "We're equal now"...got your ass subliminal shit
    If your great grand daddy could come from the past
    and hear you bumpin that bullshit he'd slam yo ass
    Cuz just imagine how our first ancestors felt
    Being decieved back in Africa, sold and delt
    They had to pay, with their life for us to walk today
    400 years later still aint left point A
    Trippin

    Tryna get from point A to point B
    I'm tryna get from point A to point B
    I'm tryna get from point A to point B
    I'm tryna get from point A to point B

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