Hope Phora
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Hope" by Phora. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro]
I'm surprised I'm still standin' right here
I was livin' in a nightmare
Never be able to breathe again
[Verse 1]
First off
I ain't in this for the Dead Presidents
The nice whips fly chicks or gold necklaces
I do this in hopes that my Auntie gets off of the pipe
N the small chance of possibly changing a persons life
I wanna make things right
These kids need some guidance
This generations lullaby is gunshots n sirens
I'm here to make a difference fuck the code of the streets
I refuse to be a victim to my own self-defeat
Don't let em' get you trapped
Cuz there's only 2 places that you'll end up
N I'm pretty sure you know just where that's at
Fuck the fame, fuck the money, fuck gettin' put on the map
I'm just trynna come together
Brown, White, Yellow, Black
It don't matter what color
N before you put that bullet in his head
Just make sure you think of his mother
And his little sister cryin' when they see him at his funeral
But in the streets, I guess that's business as usual
I'm surprised I'm still standin' right here
I was livin' in a nightmare
Never be able to breathe again
[Verse 1]
First off
I ain't in this for the Dead Presidents
The nice whips fly chicks or gold necklaces
I do this in hopes that my Auntie gets off of the pipe
N the small chance of possibly changing a persons life
I wanna make things right
These kids need some guidance
This generations lullaby is gunshots n sirens
I'm here to make a difference fuck the code of the streets
I refuse to be a victim to my own self-defeat
Don't let em' get you trapped
Cuz there's only 2 places that you'll end up
N I'm pretty sure you know just where that's at
Fuck the fame, fuck the money, fuck gettin' put on the map
I'm just trynna come together
Brown, White, Yellow, Black
It don't matter what color
N before you put that bullet in his head
Just make sure you think of his mother
And his little sister cryin' when they see him at his funeral
But in the streets, I guess that's business as usual
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