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Yo Mega man, whats the deal son? |
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Yo son, whattup? |
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Yo, I'm just sittin' here, zonin' out, thinkin' about how life is |
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yo, life's general for us, you know? how we livin' out here, you know, |
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things we go through man, why we gotta go through this life? |
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Life is an interlude to death son, you ever thought about that? |
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The saga begins |
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I'm a reflection of the drama within |
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the ghetto I live in, niggas Moms on crack, Pops just disappeared |
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the first time you get locked up who really cares? |
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I see a little snotty nosed with his sneakers on backwards |
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sleepin' on a mattress when I go to make a sale |
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at times I wonder, are we goin' straight to Hell? |
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or does God realize we're tryin' to make it as well |
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my sleep is interrupted by food on the stove |
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not gun shots, we're immune to those |
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some of my friends first bids are two to fours |
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others are on the run with huge rewards |
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Mothers watch Son's walk through the door |
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for the last time 'till they go view at the morgue |
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life is deep, we all just tryin' to eat |
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rap's a mental narcotic, I supply the streets |
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Look at my life, you see white coke and black roses |
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and tears shed for passed soldiers |
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we all walkin' the path chosen |
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from the cradle 'till the casket's lowered |
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I still got the black ski mask to throw on |
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but I can get richer off the tracks I flow on |
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I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't hustlin' no more |
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look at my life.. |
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Life ain't fair, shorty pregnant with nowhere to live |
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sleepin' in a crackhouse 'cause she don't got no relatives |
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her friends wanna drink brew and beef about who's sale it is |
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now she's gettin' hungry, she smells the marijuana scent |
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I paint a picture vividly |
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as if Picasso's spirit entered me |
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starin' at the Heavens, secluded in a tinted jeep |
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I'm sick of hearin' eulogies |
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I realize my nigga Blue is - a reminder of my past like Greek ruins |
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yet his seek keeps bloomin' |
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uneffected by police intrusions |
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or street illusions we were consumed wit' |
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I've even grown away from people I grew wit' |
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I mean we cool, but I don't need to bullshit |
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my mood could switch easily from smooth to ruthless |
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we ain't built the same so mind games are useless |
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times change, like the climate I change |
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check the forecast, I reign |
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Look at my life, you see white coke and black roses |
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and tears shed for passed soldiers |
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we all walkin' the path chosen |
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from the cradle 'till the casket's lowered |
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I still got the black ski mask to throw on |
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but I can get richer off the tracks I flow on |
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I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't hustlin' no more |
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look at my life.. |
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Live niggas I rep for, deceased, I pour Moet for |
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those incarcerated, my heart is wit' y'all |
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I know at times it gets hard behind penetentiary bars |
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then once free you realize you're mentally scarred |
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if not physically, if subjected to correctional facilities |
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prepare for your future to the best of your ability prosper, otherwise |
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you've been conquered |
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blowin' up her mobile phone so she can send you a box |
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Son, I sit inside my residence |
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and thank God I'm blessed with this poetical gift evident in every |
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ghetto like graffiti and crack sales |
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and cabs that won't stop for Black Males |
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undercovers givin' younger Brothers bad stares |
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Fours clap, Dogs crap in the grass here |
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you love to hear the story Son, the saga began here |
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MC are fictitious yet there's actual facts here |
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like the Bible said, Jesus had napped hair |
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|
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Look at my life, you see white coke and black roses |
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and tears shed for passed soldiers |
[03:21.69] |
we all walkin' the path chosen |
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from the cradle 'till the casket's lowered |
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I still got the black ski mask to throw on |
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but I can get richer off the tracks I flow on |
[03:32.41] |
I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't hustlin' no more |
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look at my life.. |
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