|
One of these days |
|
And it won't be long |
|
You'll look for me |
|
And I'll be goin' home |
|
Gotta hold on |
|
Gotta be strong |
|
Cuz people don't live that long no more |
|
Now I been off in the cut |
|
I wish I knew from the git |
|
Plenty money on the table |
|
But this thang is a bitch |
|
And can't see nothin |
|
See you blind as hell |
|
This change that I got |
|
Don't mean shit if we don't sell |
|
Forget what ya tell, Playboy |
|
Lookin forward to buyin my momma a crib |
|
And tell it like it is |
|
That's the deal |
|
Decatur been hea' |
|
Stay down what ya feel |
|
I miss my boy every damn day, for real |
|
Seem like last week that ?????? was here |
|
At the crib gettin blown |
|
Damn, I wish I knowned |
|
How this woulda turned out |
|
To have a nigga stressin |
|
I'm prayin every night to thank the Lord for my blessin |
|
Confessin to change, just ain't the same |
|
When it's me |
|
That's hard as steel |
|
I had to lose my folk to see |
|
Resevoirs run dry where ya knees don't bend |
|
I could poor a fifth of Hen |
|
But it ain't enough in the end, cuz |
|
[Hook] |
|
Look around |
|
How many people here |
|
How many people gone |
|
How many times you done sang that song |
|
It's so hard to say goodbye |
|
That's what we say when the kinfolks die |
|
My homeboy Twain |
|
Oh, he goin through a thang |
|
So let it be known |
|
When momma gone, shit gon' change |
|
I feel his pain |
|
But it don't rain, everyday |
|
Everybody got a life to live |
|
Some choose to play |
|
But regardless how ya live it |
|
Man, we all got to give it |
|
Ain't no need to fight it |
|
Just let God handle his business |
|
Can I get a witness, ha? |
|
I know sometimes I call girls hoes |
|
And I be cussin when I'm bustin my flows |
|
I try to tighten up |
|
But dollar signs keep lightin up |
|
In front of my face |
|
And I can taste it so I'm on this paper chase |
|
Waistin, my precious time |
|
Tryin to paste my grime |
|
Unaware of the finish line |
|
Niggas dyin, cuz |
|
[Hook] |
|
Now my past is gone |
|
And my future ain't shit |
|
Might as well hit a lick, cuz time tick |
|
And split second decisions decide if I live or die |
|
Forever rest face to the sky |
|
Life is like a motor burnin out |
|
You done heard it word a mouth |
|
And in the south everyday a title bout |
|
Between myself and I |
|
Eye to eye without a clue |
|
If it angers me it endangers you |
|
To the point where you got to smoke a joint |
|
'Cause you frustrated |
|
Cussin out the girl you was datin |
|
Nigga, that girl trippin, leave her |
|
She feed you good, keep her |
|
Or smokin on this reefer |
|
I teach her, how to be seen and not be seen |
|
The phone ring, broad tryna' sell me dreams |
|
It's just a fling, but some, don't understand |
|
Some, won't understand |
|
Hash in the hand better than ass in the jean |
|
I gotta get the cheese by any means necassary |
|
Bullshit done got my cousin buried |
|
The way ya carry, done got his life took |
|
The love of money niggas get hooked |
|
Quicker than crack |
|
And that's a fact you find in no book |
|
And you can sho' look |
|
But you won't find none |
|
Life's a card game with no shuffle |
|
I got the bad hand, tryna' bluff |
|
Touchin pain, flushin shit down the drain |
|
Train ya girl to run trains |
|
Now who to blame? |
|
[Hook] |