Cry Out Songtext

Yea… Yea

Yes

I’m a Call This One… Real Rap

Cause This Rap Is Real… Ya Know?

I Hope You Ain’t Too Tired To Cry 

And I Hope You Know You Ain’t Never To Live To Die

Listen… 

I Grew Up Where Them People Called Them People On Us 

Think We Slingin, But We Just Got Beepers On Us 

Grindin All Day Like We Got Sleep Insomnia 

Livin Like The Videos Write A Treatment On Us 

Stuck In The Hood Like They Poured Semen On Us 

Ghetto Birds Still Shittin On Us, Government Still Quittin On Us 

Lost A Few Homies And The Grief Still Sittin On Us 

So We Got The Names Written On Us, White Folks Still Spittin On Us 

And Them Bitch Ass Police K-9’s Teeth Still Grittin On Us 

But We Smoke, Ashes Still Gettin On Us 

Older Bitches Still Hittin On Us 

I Remember Well, Beezy Roll The L 

Beezy Ain’t Here… Wheres Beezy At?… Beezy Got Killed 

And That Was My Nigga, I Go Way Back For My Nigga 

But I Know That’s How It Happend My Nigga, 

Shit Is Much Deeper Than This Rappin My Nigga 

But Now They All Rappin My Niggas, So Now I Must Make It Happen 

So I’m a Play The Captain, Sail Boat Flappin My Nigga 

No Fingers I’m Snappin, Happy For My Nigga Lil Taggers 

Cause Even Tho We Couldnt, The Lord Saved Him 

Last Time We Seen Him Was When Katrina Hated 

Found His Body Like A Month Later, Rest In Peace Boy 

He Was A East Boy, And So Was Wesy Wes He Was A Good Nigga, So I Know He Blessed 

And His Daughter Is A Princess, This Shit Is Harder Than A Bench Press 

But I’m a Keep Goin, And I Swear I Got A Lump In My Throat 

But I’m a Keep On Pumpin The Flow, 

So If I Cry Don’t Stop The Beat, I Feel Like My Heart Just Stopped The Beat 

My Nigga Lil Derek Is Quick To Cop A Key, Either That Or Load The Gat And Go Pop A G 

And Because Of That Hes Just A Name In A Rhyme Of Mine 

I Pray His Family And His Mama Is Fine 

So Much Shit Just Sit On This Mind Of Mine 

I Think About It All The Time 

I Drink About It All The Time 

I Smoke Back To Back 

Cause If My Thoughts Got To Me Id Be In This Rap 

Or Id Be In The Can, Thank God I Had Dreams Of Being The Man 

Yea And Fuck A Man With A Badge Cause He Ain’t Shit To A Man On The Edge 

The Five O Killed Naughty Good Boy Dead 

Man You Woulda Thought They Killed Corn Bread 

Shot Em Up Face Down On The Lawn 

Not To Mention With His Handcuffs On 

Not To Mention They Had Plain Clothes On 

And The Complain Goes On 

But No Body Do Nothin Bout It 

The Jail House And The Morgue Is Too Fuckin Crowded 

And Haters At An All Time High 

Everybody Got Their Hatas Like A Fuckin Ipod 

Shit And They Tried To Burn My Phantom Up, But I Got My Gun License 

I Got My Hammers Up, I’m Ready To Shoot Like A Camera 

Stay Still Mothafucka I’m a Have To Write My Will This Summer 

Cause If They Don’t Kill Me, I’m a Kill This Summer 

Yea 

And You Can Put That On My Late Father Or My Late Grandmother 

Ms. Mercedes Carter 

Or My Grandfather Larry Bosock The Old Man Hustle Till His Heart Stopped 

And All I Know Of My Real Pops Is That He Had Money 

No Bank Account, That Brown Paper Bag Money 

Yea He Might Hit Me Off With A Little Brag Money 

But The Nigga Still Wouldnt Be A Dad For Me 

But Look How I Turned Out I Hope He Glad For Me 

But That’s Why When I See Him I Act Mad Funny Cause Hes A Joke To Me 

Don’t Message, Don’t Call, Don’t Talk To Me 

It’s Just Me And My Moma How It’s Suppose To Be 

And I Make Sure She Paid Like She Wrote For Me 

And I Know She Gets All Hope For Me 

And I Don’t Ever Want To See Her Mope For Me 

Hopefully But Truthfully There Is A Day That’s Due For Me 

But We Gone Pray That It’s As Far As The Future Sees 

Your Listenin To The Future Weezy F. Baby 

Amen

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