lirik lagu tru - heaven 4 a gangsta
[chorus]
is there a heaven for a gangsta gangsta gangsta ughh 2x
is there a heaven for a gangsta
[master p]
grew up in the ghetto, raised by a k!lla
tru across my stomach
your neighborhood thug n-gga
trying to make it, out this f-cked up environment
where n-ggas die trying to make a dollar out of 15 cent
the ghetto got me crazy
i smell daisies
but i can’t die tonight my ol’ lady pregnant with a baby
2pac said there’s a heaven for a g
but i wonder if there’s a resting place for k!llas and gangstas like me
been f-cked up for most my life
done sold my soul to the devil
i hope i die in my sleep but i know it’s gonna be a 187
ain’t no turnin’ back i’m strapped with 2 chrome gats
i see death round the corner
my time to go i’m ready black
cause i’m a soldier, gone off that douja
ain’t no crying at my funeral i lived life to the fullest, a high roller
so when i die, put me in a pine box
bury me like a g, 2 glocks, and a f-ckin’ bag of rocks
and open up clouds for this stranger
before you take me lord, tell me!
[chorus]
[silkk the shocker]
just a young n-gga, addicted to fast cars, fast money, and fast b-tches
got me blasting til it’s the motha f-ckin’ last n-gga
it’s gone be hard, tryin’ to get into heaven, cause my life is on some money
all i see is 211’s and 187’s, sell a n-gga never
so livin’ gangstafied, __ and bangin’
you know, just imagin’ n-ggas be actin’ bad up there
if they had a heaven for a gangsta
block parties for days til we get tired, free s-x like the sixties
n-gga drinkin’ up on some forties, n-gga puffin’ up on some swishers
dice game every hour
for the gangstas money and power
rewards for n-ggas that’s bout it
preacher time for busters and cowards
cause every n-gga i know on the block
will be livin’ in mansion and ridin’ old school
al capone will be the f-ckin’ president
everything i ride would be on some gold shoes
and if there’s a heaven for a gangsta i can’t wait
for pac and e to have some b-tches and chronic at the gate
[chorus]
[c-murder]
is there a heaven for a motha f-ckin’ gangsta -ss n-gga like me (f-ck no!) i doubt it
cause n-ggas like me down south (new orleans) stay bout it
swamp n-ggas
tru soldiers
fill your head with lead
i ain’t scared to die i’ll smoke your -ss like douja
retaliation is a must so i bust
your -ss be on the run i can’t keep bullets up in my f-cking gun
they ask me why am i so sick
it’s cuz of my cl!ck
full of murders and robbers, rehabilitated convicts
rest in peace to all my motha f-ckin’ dead n-ggas that took a stand
god forgive me but i know i’m going to h-ll man
i walk the streets with my converse, khakis, and my chrome gat
pockets full of drug money and crack, heroin
will i ever see the man upstairs i know my chance is slim
cause god don’t want no k!llas standin’ next to him
so i’m a hustle, and sell my d (dopeman)
but i wonder is there a heaven for a gangsta n-gga like me
[chorus x4]
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