suckin' my dick Niggaz is family now, and we stand strong Thirty niggaz on six blocks, makin' the cash long Shit is good, because niggaz gettin' what they been wantin' And we see the same shit, other
this I'm survivin' this, quiet tribalness, finalist Year 2000, flyin' the whips Nine cent, mind bent, 1999 rhyme alignment {Black is the color} We went from, arraignments to entertainment Twenty-four
get robbed, player get popped Tryna drink the pain away and pray that it stop In the mornin' head straight to the spot, the juice bar Niggas tried all that other
and talkin' that gang fuss Giving up much love Dyin' for a street that they ain't never heard of But other motherfuckers want to stand strong So you
answer it On the other end was a French accent He told me we needed to rap quick Cause he had did some bad shit And would be gone for years, spending
day Similiar to Good Times, I guess that I was Jay Jay A skinny nigga, young girls with penny figures So many niggaz, stacked upon each other It's the black upon each other
four infested room Lying there in pain, praying for the Lord to take her Nora, I hope it won't be too long for you Nora, all these years you've been
need a change Them colored boys are friends of mine but I've got my Southern pride I'm standing here a fighting wishing there was another side In four years
me what you think is goin? on What's goin? on, what's goin? on Hey yo, me and miss thang we were the perfect team We had all the things all them other
the encouraging gallery goes silent. Eight strokes ahead of the pack, the Champion slowly starts his back swing. (Honking car horn) Champion: Four! (
bitches Them niggas mad 'cause they riches ain't like my riches Ayyo I'm Murphy Lee the school boy a civilized jew boy I got my one two three four five
cursin' better than me I'm ice-cold baby, I'm zero degrees I'm like a lumberjack, cuttin' MC's like trees Choppin' 'em down, knocking 'em down, locking 'em down Four years
eye Look down, look down, You're here until you die [CONVICT ONE] The sun is strong It's hot as hell below [PRISONER] Look down, look down, There's twenty years
other shit was gonna kill me Six weeks, and everything seem so clear Before I knew it, time flew and I was clean for a year Can't believe something started
porter, strong beer and whiskey We had a bevy there as drunk as lords and all skylarking and cutting capers Till that old church clock it chimed for four
Now I grew up down an old dirt road In a town you wouldn't know My pops picked the place up for fifteen hundred bucks Back in nineteen sixty-four My
used to get depressed Overwhelmed by the stress feeling my life was the illest mess Always dwelling on the stuff that wasn't right And staring at the four
, do you wanna get with me, then let's bone I'ma take her to my hideout, cause I'm smokin that spinach and stayin strong to the finish and then I ride
