We use cookies to customize content and advertising, to provide social media features, and to analyze traffic to our site. We also share information about your use of our site with our trusted social media, advertising and analytics partners. Read more.

    C-Bo / Lyrics

    Playlist 0 Rate 0 Like & Share Print Email Play

    "Raised In Hell" Lyrics

    C-Bo feat. Big Syke

    I was born in hell without a pistol
    Now how can I survive with one live without a vest and 4 5?
    Runnin' from the Task Fo' but smashin' for my cash
    Bankin' corners hop it then I blast on their ass
    See them piggies want me dead for sure or in the pen
    Doin' ten instead of me in my Benz on some twins
    Sippin' Hen smokin' indica bomb
    And keep my pedal to the metal til I'm high and gone
    I know you rich niggas hate me,
    can I keep it real and feel this rap shit?
    Didn't make me, got out the pen and flip the '97
    Drop Mercedes, I'm the placenta of no love

    Til the lord save me, straight thugs that'll dump slugs
    Til they fuckin' grave, mass murder motherfuckers to the front page
    When we hit, we empty clips til we get paid
    I've been a slave from my cradle to the grave
    Nigga, fuck the world, I was raised in hell

    That's why we buck shit down and yell "Fuck the world!"
    I'd rather die here in hell then die doin' life in jail
    But take the shot with a Mac 12, order hits on the pack tailed
    From the block to Wotts, we are thug niggas raised in hell

    I'm bailin' through the set wit a 40, smokin' a cigarette
    Blastin' my radio, oldie tunes by The Marvellettes
    Gangbangin' vets on parole as I stroll through
    They rassle Gz like two craps and they strapped too
    Oh how I love these niggas but I hate em with a passion
    But I ride for these motherfuckers, when I don't even ask

    Thug fashion from head to toe, I let the world know
    That this is Thug Life, motherfucker, til I leave this ho
    So as my knuckles drag the concrete, big homies hit the streets
    Transgressions under pressure, preyin' on the weak
    I sink like a fish, I wish upon a ghetto star
    If the enemies come through and ride on me they won't get far
    Big homey got out, hold 22's on a hang
    Runnin' around, sweatin' motherfuckers,
    talkin' bout "Let's throw them thangs"
    Bang, I hit him with a bat and heard his skull crack
    Then I got him the wind in the trach til he shattered, to get the Mac


    It ain't no love for bitch niggas
    As I dump slugs and pull the plug on you bitch niggas
    Pick up my phone and have some thugs hit you trick niggas
    Wit on gloves or low tommy guns on them stitch niggas

    Hit niggas with H-K's, split niggas with AK's when we mash for the cash
    Doin' a hundred, blastin' buck shots off in that ass
    True outlaws ready for war, souls will never die
    The same day we meet death, the same day we ride
    Dumpin' slugs with Tek 9's, more bulletproofs my 4-5
    I just let em fly, screamin' out "Bitch nigga die"
    We's about be a killer nigga, look outside
    Tell me one reason why I should pray for eternal life
    Born and taught in hell, with a gun store on every corner
    Bodyguard, bulletproof doors, it's hard to be a goner
    Strapped with heat, these West Coast streets of Killafornia
    From day one, they have straps on em, 'cause we was raised in hell

    This song was submitted on November 4th, 2013 and last modified on November 24th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

    Song Details

    Rank: (−)
    −/5 from 0 users
    Charts: view all »
    Referring urls:view all »


    Songs you may also like

    • same album
    • same artist
    • popular on LSI
    • new on LSI


    leaderboard activity


    Facebook (0) LetsSingIt (0)