Перевод песни Tru – Heaven 4 A Gangsta

Работает на технологии Яндекс.Переводчика
Is there a heaven for a gangsta gangsta gangsta ughh 2x
Is there a heaven for a gangsta
Grew up in the ghetto raised by a killa
Tru across my stomach
Your neighborhood thug nigga
Trying to make it out this fucked up environment
Where niggaz die trying to make a dollar out of 15 cents
The ghetto got me crazy
I smell daisies
But I cant die tonight my old lady pregnant with a baby
2pac said is there a heaven for a g But I wonder if theres a resting place for killas and gangstas like me Been fucked up for most my life
Done sold my soul to the devil
I hope I die in my sleep I know its gonna be a 187
Aint no turning back Im strapped with 2 crome gacks
I see death around the corner
My time to go Im ready black
Cause Im a soldier gone off that douja
Aint no crying at my funeral I lived life to the fullest a high roller
So when I die put me in a pine box
Bury me like a g 2 glocks and a fucking bag of rocks
And open up clouds for a stranger
Before you take me lord tell me Just a young nigga addicted to fast cars fast money and fast bitches
Git me blasting til its the mothafucking last nigga
Its gone be hard trying to get to heaven cause my life is mostly marred
All I see is 2 levels and 187 sell a nigga? ?
So living gangstafied and gang banging
You know just imaging niggaz be acting bad up there
If they had a heaven for a gangsta
Block parties all days til we get tired, free sex like the sixties
Nigga drinking up on some forties, nigga pumping up on some swishies
Dice game every hour
For the gangstas money and power
Rewards for niggaz thats bout it Extra time for busters and cowards
Cause every nigga on the block I know
Will be living in mansions and riding old school
If I was born to be the fucking president
Everythin I ride would be on some gold shoes
Is there a heaven for a gangsta I cant wait
Even have some bitches crying trying to get into the gate
Is there a heaven for a mothafucking gangsta ass nigga like me (I doubt it)
Cause niggaz like me down south (new orleans) stay bout it Swamp niggaz,
Tru soldiers
Fill your head with lead
I aint scared to die Ill smoke your ass like douja
Retaliation is a must so I bust
Your ass be on the run I cant keep bullets up in my fucking gun
They ask me why am I so sick,
Its because of my click
Full of murders and robbers, rehabilitated convicts
Rest in peace to all my fucking dead niggaz that took the stand
Lord forgive me but I know Im going to hell man
I walk the streets with my converse, khakies and my chrome gack
Pockets full of drug money and crack, heroin
Will I ever see the man upstairs I know my chances are slim
Cause God dont want no killas standing next to him
So Im a hustle and sell my d (dopeman)
But I wonder is there a heaven for a gangsta nigga like me