Same Everyday - Mussilini, Z-Ro

Man, same everyday, wake up, gotta get it

Trying to get it baby

It’s the same everyday, everyday is the same

Running up and down the block, chasing change

And off a million faces, there be a seven year case

So we gotta be careful, when we slang

It’s the same everyday, I gotta get up and get it

Trying to keep the lights on, and avoid getting evicted

Cause the landlord tripping, want me out of the house

Thinking it’s nothing but that hard, coming out of the house

And it is I can’t get a job, cause I’m an ex convict

All day I sell crack, not with but the bomb shit

My spot hotter, than a motherfucking stove

But if I can’t recognize, your face shop close

I got uppers, downers, whatever you need

I got them wholesales, for niggas that wanna be

And when the drought come in, Z-Ro gon go to the stash

I’m in and out of season hustling, addicted to cash

I don’t hustle for the fame, I don’t hustle for the shine

Cause that’s where a alot of motherfuckers, be doing time

Not me, I gotta stay free

Cause if I’m locked up, can’t nobody pay me

Gotta feel me mama, I ain’t trying to balla

I ain’t gotta follow, plus I’m on the hunt for the dolla

Going through the drama, daily

Cause you realize, that the street pays me

What lately you been giving in, to the sinning of your kid

In and in women friends, getting trained in your den

Yep since daddy left, and granddaddy left

I been left with the stress, of the shelf

At the age of sixteen, my judgment was afreered

And for my 18th birthday, they sent the blue wern

I mean the blue warrant, my past pride’s current

While my attitude’s a middle finger, they don’t know what I’ve endured

It’s hell riding candy no license, uninsured

Pulled over to the curb, where’s the weed and the syrup

But I’m staying on my note, yep perfecting is with time

Since I’m a boss hap, I use paper, pen in mine

We got rich white guys on heroine, snorting

We go to jail for stones, but they can leagallize abortion

Extortion, money laundering and inbroan

Who the hell gon do time for jobs, lost at World Com

This year America’s fucked up, D-Black and Jono got time

I’m grabbing a phone, it cost a dime

I’m bout to put this land in line, y’all don’t

Feel going, y’all feel bills and crime

So here’s my mind, plus a toilet for a dookie

Seven C sale, Mussilini best boochie

Ignorance is bliss, so you better call Calvin

Shit I can’t duck fly, for the whole damn album

My life is a near, and turbulence is here

Body full of wounds, I think them folks got the spill

The land of the lost, but I’m lost in this land

Trying to make a future out this corn in my hand, man