Wicked Witches Lyrics by XV ft. Bruce Means & Chris Barnett II

I grew up 'round broken homes and picket fences
(It's a twister, It's a twister)
I grew up 'round gettin' money and gettin' bitches
(Doesn't anybody believe me?)


I grew up 'round broken homes and picket fences
Not yellow roads and wicked witches
I grew up 'round gettin' money and gettin' bitches
Not yellow roads and wicked witches
I grew up 'round broken homes and picket fences
Not yellow roads and wicked witches (That's right!)
I grew up 'round gettin' money and gettin' bitches (Unh)
Not yellow roads and wicked witches


Welcome to the city of poker faces the Land of Bluffin' (unh)
Hoes jump in relationships to land a husband (yeah)
In the plains with plain bitches and gang bangers (right)
I'm in the crib turning the closest to plane hanger
When niggas don't fight fair when they fight here (unh)
You gotta fight fear every night in your nightmares
But when the sunshine, we outside in the nice air
In a nice chair, watching planes fly by here
We on a mission cause these dreams we envision
Are bigger than the vicinity that we decide to live in
So guys wanna be fly and girls wanna be fly
So moving from these confines is the only incision (right)
Trying to find my future through rhymes I'm reminiscing
Of the empty buildings and roads for wicked witches
Numbers from pretty bitches at North Rock gettin' digits (right)
Going the quick trip when niggas is quit trippin'
You get it?


I grew up 'round broken homes and picket fences (yeah)
Not yellow roads and wicked witches (uh-huh)
I grew up 'round gettin' money and gettin' bitches (yeah)
Not yellow roads and wicked witches
I grew up 'round harlots that get lifted
Not yellow roads and wicked witches
I grew up 'round psychos that handle business
Not yellow roads and wicked witches


Music's my sanctuary, [?] born in February
Feel the air with carbon monoxide, cigs and Mary
My archives from my view from my city, Benny Pitty
To rap this way, the sky's picked my, made me gritty
My grind harder, what has built me, don't be silly
When I show skills, it's to remove myself from all the gimmicks
I can't be scenic, into win it
I gotta clean my image or I won't be able to get it
This ain't a scrimmage, time is ticking, it's my turn to kick in
I'm burning incense, the Blair Witches blunt, I'm hitting
Drop out of school because the way I learned was hella different
These textbooks made me buy [?], what was missing
I rap like it was religious, Russel Simmons
Playing games with no ankle finish
Is worth more than mentions, sharing beautiful existence
Competition got us angry at each other trying to hold position


Not yellow roads and wicked witches
I grew up 'round harlots that get lifted
Not yellow roads and wicked witches
I grew up 'round psychos that handle business
Not yellow roads and wicked witches
I grew up 'round broken homes and picket fences
Not yellow roads and wicked witches
I grew up 'round gettin' money and gettin' bitches
Not yellow roads and wicked witches


(Everything gonna be different after we die. We ain't gonna be hungry
Ain't gonna be pain, ain't gonna be suffering. Won't go through this again. After we die. After we die, oh wow, oh wow-wow! After we die it's all gonna be good. Have all the money we need after we die. Have all the food we need after we die. Have a nice house like the rich folk, after we die. After we die, after we die, we can live like [?] after we die hallelujah!)
I grew up around kids battling cancer
Who knew that chemo-therapy ain't a definite answer
But now I'm a grown man, stay on my feet
For the sole purpose to black out on the beat


My mother, aunt, uncle, and grandparents under that same roof
Raised in the generation that's capable to raise you
We ain't have the best of the best, homie we made due
We don't waist food and if you ate, you should be grateful
Saturday at Barry Sanders, football in the snow
Biggest rivalry in the city, Bulldogs and the Coats
Only gotta a season in before cancer got in the way
I wanted to walk again, then I had to give up my legs
Now I'm Diddy boppin' I'm not limpin'
We march to the beat of a drum but chy'all don't hear it
Cause mine is different and I won't deny it
You though Hip Hop was your ally, you just adopted it
I was born in it and molded by it
I grew up around kids battling cancer
Who knew that chemo-therapy ain't a definite answer
But now I'm a grown man, stay on my feet
For the sole purpose to black out on the beat

 
Top