I Am Your Future Lyrics
| Song | I Am Your Future |
| Artist | South Park Mexican |
| Album | SPM: The Purity Album |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| I'm gonna take you back .. to 1980 | |
| People thought she was crazy for keepin' her baby | |
| Being only thirteen thinking' how she would love a son | |
| Barely a child herself .. now she would mother one | |
| When that had come to past some wondered how she had made it by | |
| Some had bets on the side that she wouldn't live to see '85 | |
| But she would prove them wrong .. corrosion kickin' strong | |
| And like the calm before storm so was mom when it was on | |
| Back in '86 .. as he grew up in the mix | |
| Watchin' his mother hang around men | |
| That slang the cain to make them licks | |
| Strugglin' year after year switchin' daddy to daddy | |
| Last one had him a lincoln .. this one got him a caddy | |
| Plus a house in the subs and apartments run by thugs | |
| Pushin' dubs to them scrubs 'cuz he got a connect with killa bud | |
| Little young buck seen all of that | |
| Then the man had a hand on that crack | |
| And he out there lookin' for tear that come black | |
| Cuz he know that smack on a comeback | |
| He was nothin' but 9 years old doin' nothin' but what he was told | |
| Always the one that would hafta hold | |
| Till the man let him know when it was sold | |
| Then he would take what wrapped in the paper sack | |
| Make the drop and he'd make it back | |
| Imagine that to play the mac | |
| And not know how one's s'posed to act | |
| [chorus] | |
| When them hustlin' on them corners | |
| Don't play them for weak cuz them will shoot ya | |
| Real young killa gangsta rude-boy | |
| Destined for death yet o'm your future | |
| How can the youth be humble | |
| When we live in an age of rage | |
| Too young and naive to conceive that them diggin' an early grave | |
| [verse 2] | |
| And by the time the nineties come around .. | |
| Mom's had a frown since the man went down | |
| Kites fly penitentiary bound and lil' man's left to hold his ground | |
| Playin' his art stayin' in school .. | |
| Nothin' short of payin' his dues | |
| Mamas heart's what made him choose .. | |
| Got him a start in breakin' rules | |
| Hittin' them books hangin' with crooks .. | |
| Watchin' out when that law man looks | |
| Money's put in them pocket books | |
| And business good 'cuz he got them rooks | |
| To make the run getting' it done .. | |
| With the advantage of bein' so young | |
| Nobody cared about what had begun .. | |
| Then by the end of '91 | |
| He was the kid in junior high … | |
| Lookin' to get some new supply | |
| Got him a hook up through some guy | |
| Livin' like either it's do or die | |
| Under the influence of the game .. | |
| Already been through the love and the pain | |
| Feelin's to him that one in the same .. | |
| Gotta maintain or go down the drain | |
| It was the life he learned to live .. | |
| He's never had an alternative | |
| Most forbid the things he did .. | |
| But what would you do if you were the kid growin' up | |
| Around the cut only exposed to what's corrupt | |
| Nothin' could break a boy so rough | |
| Except the touch of his mother's love | |
| [chorus] | |
| [verse 3] | |
| Around the summer of '93 .. | |
| Everyone's packin' artillery | |
| Do many wantin' to be a "g" | |
| Ready to make a delivery | |
| Whatever it took to get in a set .. | |
| Not even worried about regret | |
| It's who could pose the biggest threat | |
| And catch the most of all respect | |
| He can't stop .. | |
| He won't stop .. | |
| Even though every spot is hot | |
| Givin' it everything thing he's got .. | |
| Tryin' to keep from getting' caught | |
| Never the one to be any place | |
| Long enough to catch a case | |
| After all no time to waste | |
| When doin' your business face to face | |
| He's comin' equipped to make the lick .. | |
| Not about to play the trick | |
| Puttin' in work to make the hit and keepin' it low to stay legit | |
| Mom's and dad's i'm talkin' to you .. | |
| These are the things our children do | |
| Hopin' you listen and catch the clues then maybe | |
| [chorus] |
| I' m gonna take you back .. to 1980 | |
| People thought she was crazy for keepin' her baby | |
| Being only thirteen thinking' how she would love a son | |
| Barely a child herself .. now she would mother one | |
| When that had come to past some wondered how she had made it by | |
| Some had bets on the side that she wouldn' t live to see ' 85 | |
| But she would prove them wrong .. corrosion kickin' strong | |
| And like the calm before storm so was mom when it was on | |
| Back in ' 86 .. as he grew up in the mix | |
| Watchin' his mother hang around men | |
| That slang the cain to make them licks | |
| Strugglin' year after year switchin' daddy to daddy | |
| Last one had him a lincoln .. this one got him a caddy | |
| Plus a house in the subs and apartments run by thugs | |
| Pushin' dubs to them scrubs ' cuz he got a connect with killa bud | |
| Little young buck seen all of that | |
| Then the man had a hand on that crack | |
| And he out there lookin' for tear that come black | |
| Cuz he know that smack on a comeback | |
| He was nothin' but 9 years old doin' nothin' but what he was told | |
| Always the one that would hafta hold | |
| Till the man let him know when it was sold | |
| Then he would take what wrapped in the paper sack | |
| Make the drop and he' d make it back | |
| Imagine that to play the mac | |
| And not know how one' s s' posed to act | |
| chorus | |
| When them hustlin' on them corners | |
| Don' t play them for weak cuz them will shoot ya | |
| Real young killa gangsta rudeboy | |
| Destined for death yet o' m your future | |
| How can the youth be humble | |
| When we live in an age of rage | |
| Too young and naive to conceive that them diggin' an early grave | |
| verse 2 | |
| And by the time the nineties come around .. | |
| Mom' s had a frown since the man went down | |
| Kites fly penitentiary bound and lil' man' s left to hold his ground | |
| Playin' his art stayin' in school .. | |
| Nothin' short of payin' his dues | |
| Mamas heart' s what made him choose .. | |
| Got him a start in breakin' rules | |
| Hittin' them books hangin' with crooks .. | |
| Watchin' out when that law man looks | |
| Money' s put in them pocket books | |
| And business good ' cuz he got them rooks | |
| To make the run getting' it done .. | |
| With the advantage of bein' so young | |
| Nobody cared about what had begun .. | |
| Then by the end of ' 91 | |
| He was the kid in junior high | |
| Lookin' to get some new supply | |
| Got him a hook up through some guy | |
| Livin' like either it' s do or die | |
| Under the influence of the game .. | |
| Already been through the love and the pain | |
| Feelin' s to him that one in the same .. | |
| Gotta maintain or go down the drain | |
| It was the life he learned to live .. | |
| He' s never had an alternative | |
| Most forbid the things he did .. | |
| But what would you do if you were the kid growin' up | |
| Around the cut only exposed to what' s corrupt | |
| Nothin' could break a boy so rough | |
| Except the touch of his mother' s love | |
| chorus | |
| verse 3 | |
| Around the summer of ' 93 .. | |
| Everyone' s packin' artillery | |
| Do many wantin' to be a " g" | |
| Ready to make a delivery | |
| Whatever it took to get in a set .. | |
| Not even worried about regret | |
| It' s who could pose the biggest threat | |
| And catch the most of all respect | |
| He can' t stop .. | |
| He won' t stop .. | |
| Even though every spot is hot | |
| Givin' it everything thing he' s got .. | |
| Tryin' to keep from getting' caught | |
| Never the one to be any place | |
| Long enough to catch a case | |
| After all no time to waste | |
| When doin' your business face to face | |
| He' s comin' equipped to make the lick .. | |
| Not about to play the trick | |
| Puttin' in work to make the hit and keepin' it low to stay legit | |
| Mom' s and dad' s i' m talkin' to you .. | |
| These are the things our children do | |
| Hopin' you listen and catch the clues then maybe | |
| chorus |
| I' m gonna take you back .. to 1980 | |
| People thought she was crazy for keepin' her baby | |
| Being only thirteen thinking' how she would love a son | |
| Barely a child herself .. now she would mother one | |
| When that had come to past some wondered how she had made it by | |
| Some had bets on the side that she wouldn' t live to see ' 85 | |
| But she would prove them wrong .. corrosion kickin' strong | |
| And like the calm before storm so was mom when it was on | |
| Back in ' 86 .. as he grew up in the mix | |
| Watchin' his mother hang around men | |
| That slang the cain to make them licks | |
| Strugglin' year after year switchin' daddy to daddy | |
| Last one had him a lincoln .. this one got him a caddy | |
| Plus a house in the subs and apartments run by thugs | |
| Pushin' dubs to them scrubs ' cuz he got a connect with killa bud | |
| Little young buck seen all of that | |
| Then the man had a hand on that crack | |
| And he out there lookin' for tear that come black | |
| Cuz he know that smack on a comeback | |
| He was nothin' but 9 years old doin' nothin' but what he was told | |
| Always the one that would hafta hold | |
| Till the man let him know when it was sold | |
| Then he would take what wrapped in the paper sack | |
| Make the drop and he' d make it back | |
| Imagine that to play the mac | |
| And not know how one' s s' posed to act | |
| chorus | |
| When them hustlin' on them corners | |
| Don' t play them for weak cuz them will shoot ya | |
| Real young killa gangsta rudeboy | |
| Destined for death yet o' m your future | |
| How can the youth be humble | |
| When we live in an age of rage | |
| Too young and naive to conceive that them diggin' an early grave | |
| verse 2 | |
| And by the time the nineties come around .. | |
| Mom' s had a frown since the man went down | |
| Kites fly penitentiary bound and lil' man' s left to hold his ground | |
| Playin' his art stayin' in school .. | |
| Nothin' short of payin' his dues | |
| Mamas heart' s what made him choose .. | |
| Got him a start in breakin' rules | |
| Hittin' them books hangin' with crooks .. | |
| Watchin' out when that law man looks | |
| Money' s put in them pocket books | |
| And business good ' cuz he got them rooks | |
| To make the run getting' it done .. | |
| With the advantage of bein' so young | |
| Nobody cared about what had begun .. | |
| Then by the end of ' 91 | |
| He was the kid in junior high | |
| Lookin' to get some new supply | |
| Got him a hook up through some guy | |
| Livin' like either it' s do or die | |
| Under the influence of the game .. | |
| Already been through the love and the pain | |
| Feelin' s to him that one in the same .. | |
| Gotta maintain or go down the drain | |
| It was the life he learned to live .. | |
| He' s never had an alternative | |
| Most forbid the things he did .. | |
| But what would you do if you were the kid growin' up | |
| Around the cut only exposed to what' s corrupt | |
| Nothin' could break a boy so rough | |
| Except the touch of his mother' s love | |
| chorus | |
| verse 3 | |
| Around the summer of ' 93 .. | |
| Everyone' s packin' artillery | |
| Do many wantin' to be a " g" | |
| Ready to make a delivery | |
| Whatever it took to get in a set .. | |
| Not even worried about regret | |
| It' s who could pose the biggest threat | |
| And catch the most of all respect | |
| He can' t stop .. | |
| He won' t stop .. | |
| Even though every spot is hot | |
| Givin' it everything thing he' s got .. | |
| Tryin' to keep from getting' caught | |
| Never the one to be any place | |
| Long enough to catch a case | |
| After all no time to waste | |
| When doin' your business face to face | |
| He' s comin' equipped to make the lick .. | |
| Not about to play the trick | |
| Puttin' in work to make the hit and keepin' it low to stay legit | |
| Mom' s and dad' s i' m talkin' to you .. | |
| These are the things our children do | |
| Hopin' you listen and catch the clues then maybe | |
| chorus |
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