Stressin lyrics by C-Murder - original song full text. Official Stressin lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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C-Murder – Stressin lyrics
Cut that mike up for me Bass

Let's do this thang boy, Deadly Sounds right back at ya

Can't stop none of this? Playa

Check this out

Chorus 2x:
They don't want this chorus
All they want is Murder
They Don't Feel My Pain
But they gone feel my presence
Radio Scratch: (They've done, they've done
Had a lot of hard times)
And I've been stressin since a adolescent

Verse 1:
Now I aint never robbed rallys
But it was close, I've done stick ups for Bally's
We love to smoke
As I recall I heard you mention my name
What you love to see me stressin?
This aint part of the game
You must be high
Cause you rockin' like a Bass Head
You hear me
I'm grindin', workin' hard for mine ya feel me
Ya feel me
400 years of pain and now this
It's like them c*** roaches got you trained, just like a bitch
You see they smile in yo face
Now what they after
And now they wanna take my place
Them Back Stabba's
Blucka Blucka, (Huh)I'mma Get You Sucka
We roll tinted windows on the black Humma Trucka
And after it rain he might be dead like Jesse James
Trained for pain even when I lose everything I gain
It's simple mathematics
When you go ballistic
Statistics show we breed soldiers in my district
It ain't like Mr. Rodgers
I learned the game, but it wasn't from the Dodgers
Pissed from pain, and Welfair wasn't a question
Just a decision, we embraced it as a blessin'
Cause food was missin'
And my tattoos tell a story
I'm Bossainie and Kevin died in his glory
I know he see me, I'm runnin but I aint movin'
It's like a dream cause all they want is Murder...
That's what it seem

Chorus 2x

Come meet me in the projecets
Cause it's a set-up
And the only way to stop, (is what) watch him get wet up
Aint no since in you fakin' with me
I'm just a pebble and the window you got is bigger than me
Watch me shadow while blood splattered and hit the pave
I'm puttin fresh flowers on my empty grave (Damn)
Tryna sell a million so I can provide for my lil' one
Shit they want little mess like the rest of the ghetto children
It's confusing I'm losing pieces to a broken puzzle
Russion Ruolette to my head it's down bubble muzzle
I'm Kamakazi, you try me put yourself right beside me
I'm a wanted man call Baby Mamma so she can hide me
The only victim is all the brotha locked up in prison
Gettin letters and pictures, I know they people miss em'
Take a ride to Texas in a stolen Lexus
Three mack 11's is ready, that's me only protection
Who do I believe in really, I put my faith in god
I was dealt some Bad Cards, He's fightin' in school yards (What)
And fightin' at night behind bars
The Devil hit me wit a Murder Charge, All they want is Murder Boy...
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Songwriters: COREY MILLER, RODERICK TILLMAN
Stressin lyrics © ENTERTAINMENT ONE U.S. LP, MUSIC SERVICES, INC., Ultra Tunes

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