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Heh, y'all remember back in the days |
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When niggaz used to get they ass whooped for snakin cars |
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And had to go strip your own switch off the tree |
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These are the days |
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(These are the days) |
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These are the days (when we parlay) |
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When we parlayed (just me and my team) |
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Me and my team (out there livin our dream) |
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Ha, ha ha, Lord (look how far we've come) |
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Look how far we come (doin what we love) |
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Doin what we love (cause these are the days) |
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(ballin, we gon' hold on) |
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And I remember back in the days, if you ain't like a nigga |
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You let him know, then you asked for a fave |
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And then he coulda got a head up |
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Me and you after school in the front and we can tear it up |
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And everybody gon' know about it |
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Yep, so put down your set, and shut up, and be sho' about it |
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Cause everybody done lost one |
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But don't come home cryin unless your ass mind another one |
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And your ass better fight back |
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And you bet' not run and let it get back to mom |
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Cause, daddy ain't made no punks (uh-uh) |
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And, momma ain't raised no chumps (no way) |
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So, go 'head for what you know |
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Cause a lil' childhood fight's alright, but that's as far as it goes |
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Cause tomorrow we'll be best of friends |
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Never ever disagreein, now that's a friend, c'mon |
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Now leave the guns and the crack and the knives alone |
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It's, T-Double on the microphone, and I can |
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see trouble right in front your home |
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Far as the kid's concerned, let him live and learn |
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And let him grow to be older than us |
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Teach him more than gangbangin, drug deals and hold-ups |
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And slow up, hold that drinkin just a little bit |
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And when they wanna get high, just let 'em hear this |
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And let 'em hit it 'til they OD |
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Cause when they sober up, they gon' love and respect us |
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Now we havin mo' doctors, lawyers |
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Teachers, preachers, and deep-sea explorers |
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C'mon |
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These are the days, Lord these are the days |
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These are the days (these are the days) Lord these are the days |
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(for the thugs) |
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Whatever happened to the momma and daddy jokes |
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And why you cuss so much, right in front of these old folks |
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That lady about seventy-five years old |
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That's twice my age, and fo' times yours |
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I know momma taught you better than that |
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Believe stuff like this'll give the ol' girl a heart attack |
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Always hollerin about child abuse and child neglect |
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Where the hell did you get that? |
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Shit the last time I checked |
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You ever lost self-respect, you got it put on your ass for that |
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And it happened right there where it went wrong |
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Part one's now, part two's at home |
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So from now on, it's yes ma'am or no sir |
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Put that behind you, questions and answers |
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Followed by thank you or no thanks |
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Or father may I be excused without bein rude |
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Hold on, so this here should teach you a lesson y'know |
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Kids, y'know listen to your teachers at school and |
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Parents, need to pay attention to your kids at home |
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Therefore uh, know how to be hard on a child abuser |
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Child neglecter, where e'rybody nobody call HRS on us |
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Beat they lil' bad ass when they get out of line |
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That's what my momma did - fo' sho' |
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Ain't nuttin wrong with a lil' ass whuppin |
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The swellin gon' go down and the bleedin gon' stop |
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But your ass'll be alive, I'll bet you that |
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And umm, I put that on Pearl |
