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Nobody ever said life was gon' be easy |
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But damn.. |
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[ verse 1 ] |
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Just a kid, moms died when i was seven |
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Pops died, eleven, what's up with heaven? |
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It's hell when you're an orphan at a early age |
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This impressionable stage, no love breeds rage |
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In the heart of a child who never knew his roots |
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Looked up to pimps and to hustlers in the eel-skin boots |
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Parkin caddies on the sidewalk, gangsta talk |
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Truckin diamonds and gold |
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Rubberbands around the bankrolls |
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Fly girls to make your head spin |
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Seemed they partied all night long |
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I was like, "put me on" |
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But they said, "little fellow, run and go play |
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Take your butt to school or else you'll have to be like us one day" |
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I didn't understand, but i tried to get a job |
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While all the players got the girls cause they'd hustle and rob |
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I was like makin 'bout 1-50 a week |
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And after taxes, you know what that is - lunch meat |
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And i know i can be better than this |
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I gotta get me a car, man |
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I gotta get a girl |
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I know i can do it out there, man |
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I'm finna go for it, man |
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I gotta get some money |
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Word |
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[ verse 2 ] |
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Streets of anger, trouble and crime |
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I had it hard, had to sleep in my car sometime |
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But i never let another player see me down |
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I kept my front up, my gear clean |
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Even when checkin minor green |
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Brothers knew my game was true |
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So i hooked up with the real crew |
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That knew excactly what to do |
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Bank jobs and jewels, quick to flex with tools |
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Pimpin hoes on the block |
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Checkin cash non-stop |
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Crack spots, armor with interior bars |
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No lie, i used to own 'bout 15 cars |
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Every piece fila made |
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Drape my women in suede |
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Pavet piaget, cesar's palace holidays |
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It was on, crazy out of control |
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We made up the word 'ballin', that was how we rolled |
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But the fbi had a-whole-nother idea |
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It's called multiple indictments for hundreds of years |
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What |
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Daff is dead? |
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Carter got 25 years? |
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Nah.. |
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Spike 35 to life? |
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Nah, don't tell me b.o.'s dead, man |
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I don't wanna hear that, man |
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I was just with him |
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[ verse 3 ] |
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The game is vicious, no retirement, you die young |
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Listen to a fake, he might tell you to grab a gun |
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I get phone calls from condemned row |
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Brothers i ran with, brothers i really know |
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They tell me, "ice you got much love in the pen |
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You're the one that got away, don't wanna see you in" |
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They tell me, "tell the little homies the deal |
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Don't let em come up in this hellish habitat of shanks and steel" |
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I marched two million strong in d.c. |
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Lookin eye to eye with brothers that i used to think below me |
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Damn, my mind was twisted in my hustlin days |
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But god spared me, i got a baby son to raise |
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And bein black ain't easy, prejudice is real |
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But health and liberty is all we need for us to build |
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We gotta come together, unseparated |
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Check yourself like i did, blackman, because we're all related |