T.I. – Wildside Lyrics

Produced By: Brian Kidd & No I.D.
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[Hook]
Smoking weed, riding chrome
Only thing I've ever known
Walk on the wildside
Welcome to our lives


Slangin' keys, spraying K's
Every day we getting paid
To walk on the wildside

Welcome to our lives

[Verse 1: T.I]
Come take a little walk with me through my neighborhood
And come spend a day in my trap

Get your paper right and that yay some good
But just keep a tool in your lap
My lil patna holding that work
Nigga want weight then keep around back

Better not violate on my turf
Nigga you's in danger to die like that

Ain't no investigation, no statements
And no witnesses, we ain't seen shit

Pull up after dawg with that jewelry on
To come see a bitch, that way he get it
We on dark road with no street lights

That pistol play after fist fights
And them geek monsters walk all night
With they crack pipes tryna get right

Midnight we shoot dice
The whole house smelling like cooked crack
You beat me, and you talk shit
You get shot bitch, and I took that

Hoodrats on deck, that loud is all I blow
This shit to you might sound wild
But this life is all I know


[Hook]

[Verse 2: T.I]
Can you picture me back in '93
Bumpin' Dr. Dre while I hit some weed

Cut school, made ten G
Thirteen, trying to get keys
At fifteen, I was full-grown
Get wrong, get bust on
My uncle gave me a bunch of work
And that shit was gone by the next morning

Young wild nigga runnin' with me
Homicide wasn't nothing to us
Dead body wasn't nothin' to see
That pistol play was just fun to us

I was 19 with two felonies
One of my best friend had a life sentence
How my uncle Fred was just like me
And had a bunch of partners no longer living
All about that cocaine dealing
No education, no pot to piss in
Old school, on chrome wheel
Window tinted, pistol hidden
That's the shit that I come from

In my heart, fear ain't none
Stand tall, I can't run from
That wildside, that I walk on


[Hook]

[Verse 3: ASAP Rocky]
All I ever did was put on
All my old friends tryna get on
Shorty fell out, making diss songs
Never talk down when I get home
Ain't the type of nigga you can shit on

Hundred spokes, brick, chrome
God body, big bone
That's hard body, Jim Jones

Niggas know the sound of how we switch on him
Finna wild out on a Tip song
Better make a toast, nigga, Tip home
First get the bread, then get going
From the land of the lead where they spit chrome
Where most kids never get to live long
Get their pistols, get pissed on
Pistolwhipped and stripped, homie

Left for a minute and they switched on me
Caught them talking down, tryna bitch on me

And they snitch on me, ain't got shit on me
So my guess is death is what they wish on me

So I'm blowing on them candles
Closed lids and dark eyes

Cause hate's never part time when you on that wildside

[Hook]