Come on Down
Lyrics
We got Daquan here
Come on down
Now Daquan is from South East DC
He says he's willing to sell his soul to make it in the music industry
And today, Daquan I believe we can make this a reality
But-but before we make the sa-satanic act of reality
We have to ask
Are you ready for the blood sacrifice?
Are you ready to leave your life of love and holiness behind?
I want the world, I want the money, I want the respect (nigga, come on down)
I want the gold, I want the chains, I want it, I want it (nigga, come on down)
Never had nothing but soul, never had nothing but hustle (nigga, come on down)
Wanna be loved, I wanna be famous, I wanna be rich (nigga, come on down)
I wanna be anything, wanna be anybody that I'm not (nigga, come on down)
Let me get it all, get the money, get the women motherfucker better give me like ten of them
Glock-9's I got ten of them
My enemies I gotta get rid of them
Since I was a little boy I wanted to be loved
Wanted to be hugged, but the streets wanted me to thug
Sweep my emotions up under my rug
Then call the plug, to sell me some drugs, to sell to my people to smoke on a nub
Sipping liquor by the jug
I'm trying to burrow it down, these feelings inside of me
Can't speak on the things that done happen to me as a child, I'm talking about sodomy
Oh no I can't let them see that side of me
Therapy that shit right there for them white folk
I sell crack like white yolk
Police they got me walking on a tight rope
Want me on sight 'cause I sell dope
So I'd rather just sell my soul
Getting this money my goal
I want the world, I want the money, I want the respect (nigga, come on down)
I want the gold, I want the chains, I want it, I want it (nigga, come on down)
Never had nothing but soul, never had nothing but hustle (nigga, come on down)
Wanna be loved, I wanna be famous, I wanna be rich (nigga, come on down)
I wanna be be anything, wanna be anybody that I'm not (nigga, come on down)
Anyone that I'm not
That I'm not
Anyone that I'm not
That I'm not
Most folks think gangstas like what they do
Think they enjoy killing their own brothers and sisters
By riddling our streets with bullet shells and narcotics
Most people think that shit cool, think again
Why you think they call it the trap playboy?
We just tryna escape by any means
But we mostly end up escaping through death
Writer(s): Jahaan Sweet, Matthew Jehu Samuels, Monte Booker, Phil Perry, Sir Robert Bryson Hall II
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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