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Correct This Goes Out Lyrics
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Artists: J
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Jagged Edge
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Correct This Goes Out
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Lyrics:
This goes out to all them hustlers Everybody out there making them ends meet I ain't mad at'cha Je y'all, this goes out to everybody This goes out to you, this goes out to you (This goes out) This goes out to you, this goes out to you (I'm telling you this goes out) This goes out to you, this goes out to you (This goes out, hey) This goes out to you, this goes out to you (Oh, oh, oh, oh) Some people sleep five to a bed Three at the feet, two at the top So I can't really talk about how they should live When I know in my heart if it came down to it I'd be getting down the same as them See Lord, tryna hustle must be something heaven sent A lot of rent wouldn't be made without this trade That we call hustlin' This goes out to the cats on the corner Stressin' and strugglin' just to get a dollar I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something Hold your head up cause they can't touch you This goes out to the girls in the streets Like going all out just so their kids can eat Like I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something Hold your head up cause they can't touch you This goes out... I used to be half between Going all out and doings things that I know just wasn't right And now I'm looking back And I think just do it or never did something But I can tell you that I'd probably take a bullet in my head than leave my family unfed And that's the way it is This goes out to my homies, yeah This goes out to the cats on the corner Stressin' and strugglin' just to get a dollar I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something Hold your head up cause they can't touch you This goes out to the girls in the streets Like going all out just so their kids can eat Like I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something Hold your head up cause they can't touch you This goes out... [Rap] Uh, uh, uh Ay yo I welcome the struggle Like I welcome the hustle Find the right one, take it and bubble That's on the muscle I ain't giving in, I'm trying to win And if I gotta get my hands a little dirty Then I'm sorry for sin But the Fed don't understand ain't bred So brothers gotta learn to bake to make bread Chicks use their ass and shake to make breat But I understand shorty keep them kids fed This goes out to my whole 5-5-81 click I often reminisce when we just dreamed of this Rich cars, fine homes, girls with nice toes Dime pieces standing in line to show us their thongs Went from riding six deep in a little ass jeep To Cadillac trucks and Benzes, prowling the streets We gon' ball till we fall Cause we fadin' em all Put your glasses in the air, this goes out to y'all This goes out to the cats on the corner Stressin' and strugglin' just to get a dollar I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something Hold your head up cause they can't touch you This goes out to the girls in the streets Like going all out just so their kids can eat Like I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something Hold your head up cause they can't touch you This goes out... My homies, you can't touch me If you don't really know This goes out to my homies You can't touch me If you don't really know This goes out to my homies You can't touch me If you don't really know This goes out to my homies You can't touch me If you don't really know
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