[00:01.835] |
(Yo.. yo, yo, yo, yo ) |
[00:05.905] |
Crime Story, the title, I gotta get it however, whenever, whoever |
[00:12.371] |
(All my niggas know, they live the streets, never go down! ) |
[00:20.557] |
Follow me up one time like my man Poppy Da, you know? |
[00:24.699] |
(I'm wit you son! I'm wit you! ) |
[00:26.068] |
(Shy)Time for some action, it was June first, me and my Co' |
[00:30.140] |
we ran up on a check-casher on Tonka's and raw, I told her |
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"Tell it on that, funny with the money cuz the money ain't yours |
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We got twenty hostages, I'm ready to die for this!" |
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Squig said, "She movin too slow, I'm ready to pop this bitch!" |
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Then he shot the bitch, and we had to move quick |
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Grab the cash money and foodstamps and jetted towards the whip |
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Jump started the vehicle, drove a block or two |
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Looked in the rearview, noticed the boys in blue |
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So I bust a u-turn, you could smell the rubber burn |
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I dusted 'em like a wet bag of sherms (AHHH!) |
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Went uptown, slowed down and made a left at the light |
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Started flowin, unboared, then she lept (STOP! STOP! STOP!) |
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Up in front of 27th warrant, we ran up in the buildin |
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Bid with two duffle bags but at least I had it big (We came off!) |
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Ran up in the crib, shut the door, the sweat started pourin |
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That's when I heard the sirens roarin |
[01:14.731] |
(Superb)Yo, fuck the sirens, son we came off, we blastin |
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Any nigga come in here we comin through, ah like... |
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We do the same shit in my projects |
[01:22.533] |
Loungin, listenin to Flex, just thinkin of crime |
[01:25.466] |
In the hard times, niggas I know sell dimes |
[01:27.912] |
Some used to snort dimes and do robberies |
[01:31.171] |
(Shy)"Come out with your hands up! We have you surrounded!" |
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Heard it over boom-horn, one officer shouted |
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I said, "This is it son, is you 'bout it? See you in Hell!" |
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Looked my man in the eyes, we started bustin off shells |
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Goin all out, backin the ATF down, 52 days, they Nicorette style |
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They got the sharpshooters out, on the project roof |
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It's 12 o'clock noon, the old lady yelled, "Don't shoot!" |
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Then I heard a shot, my heart stopped |
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Then my man dropped, I fucked with the Glock (Yo, what the fuck?) |
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And got timed by four cops |
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They cuffed me up, fucked me up, brought me to the precinct |
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Ain't feedin me all weekend, all I was doin was thinkin |
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I blew trial (Damn!) and they threw the book at me and I'm still readin |
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You could hear the stories over and over in the hood |
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Got to live to regret, if I could take it back I would |
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We planned to be like this, we both dead |
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I hung it up cuz I couldn't hold my head |
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(Superb)Yo, these streets is terrible son! |
[02:24.694] |
We do the same shit in my projects |
[02:27.199] |
Loungin, listenin to Flex, just thinkin of crime |
[02:30.311] |
In the hard times, niggas I know sell dimes |
[02:32.750] |
Some used to snort dimes and do stick-ups dunn! |
[02:35.889] |
We do the same shit in my projects |
[02:37.680] |
Loungin, listenin to Flex, just thinkin of crime |
[02:41.086] |
In the hard times, niggas I know sell dimes |
[02:43.646] |
Some used to snort dimes and do stick-ups dunn! |
[02:48.373] |
For real, crime, without that we all be starvin |