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(feat. ACD) |
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[Verse 1: Prodigy] |
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Yo, my life story - based on a true story |
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We popped MAC's all growin' up, while y'all played story |
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We were playin' hide the cracks, while y'all played tag |
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I was a young gun learin' how to fight back |
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A 'lil rock head fuck, who neva learned shit |
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Who picked up a habit for the block life kid |
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A few cases, sit on the bench, make conversation |
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Yo, there's party tonight, get the razors |
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"Dawg, but it's all goin' overboard" |
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I told 'em - "Dang god you tryin' to take a nigga arm" |
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We're like a brick, when we come smashin' through |
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A-C-D, M-O-B, nigga fuck it's you |
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We're straight thugs over here bo', what the deal y'all? |
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Up in the staircase, post-up, long chrome |
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With the .4 long, closest I could reach my arm |
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Who wanna play target, check out the name of the song |
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It goes... |
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[Chorus: Prodigy] |
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Block - Life, what's the matter with your thugs |
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Block - Life, what's the matter with y'all's guns |
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Block - Life, everybody can't be on top |
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The Block - Life, can't stop, won't stop |
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[Verse 2: ACD] |
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Comin' up, I was a fuck up, burnin' blunts up |
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Playin' dice with the older crowd, puttin' dubs up |
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Some kids was into sports, I was into doe |
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You was mad 'cause you felt all I was stress |
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'Cause the money was slow |
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Fractured my hand, I'm stashin' 'em |
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Before I'm bagged wit 'em, plus my son got the Magnum |
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Wyldin' out in these young gun days, young love days |
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New to the game, but was curious about the fees |
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And them thick rope chains, I'm stuck on how |
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Niggaz blew up off cocaine, and opened wide |
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In '88, when I first heard Jane, we got all the - |
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But the hood still remains the same |
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Old fiends, same drugs, new thugs |
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Same slugs, new crews with MAC's |
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With thoughts to push it back, straight like that |
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Actin' up off Cognac, come through |
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Act hostile, but lay you flat, in the - |
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[Chorus: Prodigy] |
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[Verse 3: Havoc] |
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Yo, we use to play the lobby |
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Get bent; see that was my favorite hobby |
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Watchin' my dawgs get off, some even framed Ferrari's |
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Alot of school peers blew, some even bought Ferrari's |
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Young thugs we grew, still we're crashin' parties |
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Too all the shooks ones too, my crew'll bash & body |
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Dukes stuntin' witchu, don't make us clap somebody |
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New rats and other run fast and tellin' friends who looked fat |
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We off the hook as the jook style |
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Years went by pages turned onto calendar |
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Trade in my Tray .8, copped the .40 Caliber |
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Kept it on me in school, got shorty cuttin' out Algebra |
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Niggaz always seemed cool, others tryna to challenge us |
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Retaliation, got me trapped with false accusation |
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Tossed cracks & graders, when the ambs' invaded, madd congregation |
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Watchin' altercation go down, the rough frantic, when the hear the .4 pound |
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[Chorus: Prodigy] |