|
VERSE 1: Apathy ] |
|
I remember in the '90s it was all about forties and blunts |
|
Nas cassettes, Das EFX and Reebok pumps |
|
Punk mother******s that were claimin they got tecs |
|
And rockin ski masks like Q-Tip in Hot Sex |
|
Before them underground rappers with complex |
|
When Mobb Deep and Jay still lived in the projects |
|
There wasn't Escalades floodin the streets |
|
It was all about Lexus Coupes and the Jeeps |
|
Yup, what I wouldn't give to see it again |
|
Doin stupid-ass *************t, just me and my friends |
|
Like callin up *************es, if ( ? ) got pissed |
|
We'd pop *************t cause caller ID didn't exist (Click) |
|
I can still remember dancin to Kane |
|
Every day with Dewayne, LJ and Charmaine |
|
Life's changed, but this is how it be till the end |
|
Still doin dumb *************t, just me and my friends |
|
[ CHORUS ] |
|
(Hey hey hey |
|
Try to take the crew and we don't play play |
|
Say say say) --> Lauryn Hill |
|
It's just me and my friends |
|
(Hey hey hey |
|
Try to take the crew and we don't play play |
|
Say say say) |
|
It's just me and my friends |
|
(Hey hey hey |
|
Try to take the crew and we don't play play |
|
Say say say) |
|
It's just me and my friends |
|
(Hey hey hey |
|
Try to take the crew and we don't play play |
|
Say say say) |
|
(Goin out, just me and my crew) --> Biggie Smalls |
|
[ VERSE 2: One Two ] |
|
Yo, the crew I roll with - cold as hell |
|
We own the streets like OG's own the jails |
|
Mack college *************es, they know us well |
|
But now that I'm 23 I feel old as hell |
|
Suave mother******s with the fliest of hoes |
|
Peepin *************es (Yo Ap, keep your eyes on the rooooad) |
|
Nothin's really changed, we work fast on it |
|
Since hats with silver plaques that said 'RAP' on it |
|
Ignorant little punks provokin a fight |
|
Kinda like stickin a pipe through the spokes of your bike |
|
Cruisin down Franklin, tappin the brakes |
|
Hey yo Rube, put that dutch down, we passin the jakes |
|
Spot didn't get hot or jump until we came |
|
A fridge full of forties like Nuthin' But a 'G' Thang |
|
Rap pack of Godz and we willin to pop |
|
And stick together like waffles when they still in the box |
|
[ CHORUS ] |
|
[ VERSE 3: Celph Titled ] |
|
You couldn't tell me nothin back in '92 when I was wildin, duke |
|
Rockin British Knights, gold chains and Cross Colors suits |
|
Me and Joey boostin bikes out of front yards |
|
We'd smack you up just for doin nothin, we was dumb hard |
|
Known from Armenia Ave and back down to Egypt |
|
Like in Tampa you either showin your ************* or you don't show your face |
|
Strictly Miami Bass hits playin from Disco Rick |
|
And gangsta *************t from the Geto Boys, they minds was playin tricks |
|
We used to load up at Manuel's then |
|
And launch bottle rockets at people's houses until we'd burn our hands |
|
I gotta manage the jam, I remember like, "Damn |
|
I'm so proud to be a hip-hop fan" |
|
Started makin beats and writin raps, that's when the bug got in me |
|
Flipped out when my man [Name] pulled an armed robbery |
|
I ain't seen him since he went to prison, wonder how he's livin |
|
Heard he's out the pen, so one love to you my old friend |
|
[ CHORUS ] |
