(feat. Three 6 Mafia, Project Pat)


[Verse 1:]

Street life killed my daddy 

Got my momma pregnant in the back of a caddy 

Since i lost my first tooth i ain't been happy 

Young wild nigga child why that boy is so nappy 

He got that devil in 'im 

Police wanna take him down 

Used to be a player but the coochie cost money now 

He ain't to bright but he know a trap when he see one 

Got is conscious in his pants with his gun



[Chorus:]

Seventeen years of rain foggin up my windows (yeah)

It done been seventeen years of pain 

But i'm still here though 

Seventeen years of rain foggin up my window (yeah)

It done been seventeen years of pain but i'm still here though 



[Verse 2:]

Shoe box full of pictures 

All that's left of good times i shared with my niggas 

Some alive and some no longer with us 

How da, how da, how da hell do you pray for forgiveness 

When you got devil in you 

Rogain keeps the hair strong but Cocain keeps the cable on 

I can't wait till my nigga jb come home 

Why do all the real niggas stay gone so long 



[Chorus:]

Seventeen years of rain foggin up my window (yeah)

It done been seventeen years of pain 

But i'm still here though 

Seventeen years of rain foggin up my window 

It done been seventeen years of pain but i'm still here though 



[Three 6 Mafia & Project Pat (rap)]

Even though a nigga still in the hood 

Gettin drunk and smokin on wood 

I'ma make it up out of this street life 

On the corner is where i stood 

Out there all by myself 

Cuz a player gotta get this mil 

Wearin fur ain't doin us no good 

Flippin burgers ain't gonn make you filled 

But i'm still ten toes in this Hustlin tryna make hood rich 

And i still ain't trustin no bitch Cuz the mother fuckers always snitch 



Its hard in this ghetto man 

Fifteen years old with coke and caine 

Cheese don't come i'ma go insane Snatch me a purse snatch me a chain 

Out here on the block with the fiends and the moon 

Squeeze on the glock tryna pop at a goon 

He done stole my dough he took my food 

Project wasn't born with a silver spoon 

In my mouth in my grill wear six chain then niggas get killed 

One in the grave the other in jail 

Nobody wins thats fo' real

 

Back way when i was a runny nose 

runnin round 

Up and down the town 

Carrying a black glock and a gold frown 

I kept that product on me 

It wasn't no problem homie 

You said it i had it and met you if you stole my money 

Just tryna buy bologna but now i'm buying lobster 

Still totin a glock but pusing a rolls rouce and winning oscars 



[Chorus 2x]