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Ay it's like me and this nigga Eclipse |
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Been working on this shit hella hard for hella days |
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You know saying Been since like |
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95 both graduated and shit |
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Shit changed a grip for me this year |
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95 was some shit check it out |
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It was 95 the year of my graduation |
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I was in great anticipation of my date of release |
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From this educational prison |
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Moms made the decision |
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To throw me from the residence |
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It seems weed and hip-hop had taken precedence |
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Over my responsibilities but it was alright |
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Because that day to day bullshit was killing me |
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So willingly I left the home |
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And set out on my own |
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Shacked up with some crew Saga and Rhythm |
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Didn't have to give them any rent |
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So hella time was spent up late night |
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Freestyling getting high |
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Not knowing how I would make it to school the next day |
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From the Westside of L A I had to hit the 33 |
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And now I hear them fools from Red |
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Dots is out to murder me |
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So certainly stresss built |
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Taking bus to night school every day |
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|
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Could got my ass kilt |
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But I had to get my credits straight |
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Plus the bus ride gave me time to meditate |
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On how to set this shit straight |
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So late one night |
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I called up moms then we reached an agreement |
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Which only delayed |
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It didn't prevent what was bound to happen |
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She said she wasn't tripping |
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Just as long as I got a gown and cap |
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Then came graduation day |
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The only nigga to walk the stage |
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With a zero point five four five GPA |
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I hand her the diploma and she still have shit to say |
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And it's f**kin off my vibe |
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And the album's on its way |
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I couldn't prolong the day when Murs |
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And the real world would collide |
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The year was nine-five |
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The year was nine-five |
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I thought I wouldn't survive |
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Living in the city |
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Where it's a day to day struggle to survive |
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|
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The year was nine-five |
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Daily survival tactics in L A |
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Daily survival tactics in L A |
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Daily survival tactics in L A |
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Daily survival tactics in L A |
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Daily survival tactics in L A |
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I struggled my way in the summer |
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And now the album's almost done |
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But now is when the crew starts to fall apart |
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One by one we disassembled |
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Which sorta resembles my life |
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Falling apart right before my eyes |
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So I fantasized about having a video |
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And being on tour |
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To keep my mind off my empty stomach |
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And sleeping on the floor |
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Being that I'm broke |
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I'm stealing groceries from the store |
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And now it seems every battle I have turns to beef |
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And me broke with no heat |
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I'm looking over both shoulders whenever I hit the streets |
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And just when I thought I escaped defeat |
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I'm sitting with my homey and we smoking a beadie |
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When this cop see me and he decides to procede |
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A young black male with dreads it gotta be weed |
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So he comes over with the usual disrespect |
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|
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But that's all I've come to expect |
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From a motherf**ker with a badge and a God Complex |
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Next he's asking questions testing my patience |
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Finds out I'm underage now he's writing a citation |
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Asking me to stand up to be frisked |
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I'm like Man f**k this |
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Then this bitch cop snatched me up from the back |
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I turned around to counter the attack |
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But I'm surrounded by five cops |
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Who don't appreciate the reply |
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So it's me they hogtie and throw on the asphault |
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Steady talking shit standing over me like it's all my fault |
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And now I got a court case to face |
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And in the first place I barely got enoughs to survive |
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So when the court date arrived |
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I damn sure don't got enough for a f**king bus ride |
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So they give me a warrant failure to appear |
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The next week I'm at the pier with my crew |
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I seen this fool I battled a couple days back |
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Hadn't seen him in a few I stepped to him |
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He's like Dude we need a rematch |
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You see my ego's been scratched |
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And when I tell him that shit ain't gonna happen |
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His ese partner went and opened up his trap |
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And tell me that the odds was uneven instead of leaving |
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I turned around and put this motherf**ker in his place |
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And at the same time |
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His homey all up in my nigga T S face |
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So I'm think we about to squab; |
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But then the cops mob |
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And break it up now they feeling like |
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They did they job |
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But here they come back up the street hella deep |
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Talking shit like we wasn't gonna trip |
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So I took the first hit |
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And now we squabbing in the middle of the streets |
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The odds was 3-on-6 and we still held it down |
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Except for the one so called homey |
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Who stood there held the radio and looked around |
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And it seems like forever that we fought |
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But it eventually came to a halt |
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So then we hit the park to discuss what happened |
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I wake up the next day |
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These fools is talking bout capping me |
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Taking my life over a fight nah that couldn't be right |
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Lost sight of where I'm living Los Angeles |
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Where fools ain't giving a f**k |
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Stuck in the same place |
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With decisions to make |
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Either I kill them they kill me or I make an escape |
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So I took the money |
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That my step-pops left me when he passed away |
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And moved up to the Bay only to find out |
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Niggaz gonna have problems wherever you stay |
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And it's been a couple of years |
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And some of these fools is still tripping to this day |
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So I feel I can safely say |
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That on this planet there ain't no place like L A |
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There ain't no place like L A |
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Mid-City fool bitch |
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Heated defeated day after day |
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Daily survival tactics in L A |