and Daddy prayin down on their knees For a miracle in Memphis Lord won't you help them please Chorus For the kids we trade all them tomorrow and for the kids
What do you do when you're scared inside? When all of your feelings just seem to collide Emotions just seem to let go All of your tears always follow
Ain't looking for hand-outs Twenty-five years up in this bitch And I'll be damned if I ain't leaving rich And leave my kids a grip I let my blood drip
bridge for the people in the park We built this bridge for the dummies in the dark And we built this bridge for the children in the light We built this bridge for
in it, only it's objects And the object for us to explore our prospects And sidestep cops on the way to the top - yes! As kids we would daydream, sittin
cry Together we cry Jenny was a poor girl, living in a rich world Named her baby hope when she was just 14 She was hoping for a better word for this
a fuckin train What kind of shit, youknowhatI'msayin? Got a thousand niggaz write for him, let ME write for you Son my shit is jumpin, I got John
Baby, baby, baby! Kids call me coffee because I *jugga jugga jugga* drop! And you don't stop, don't put on the red light While I rock player, niggas I coach more than John
time when old folks were respected Kids talkin' back was never accepted Get spanked and your mouth got washed out with soap But kids nowadays will curse
bridge game to look forward to I've got this chance, a golden opportunity As long as I keep doing what I'm supposed to You see my wife and kids,
best of life A car, a house, a neighborhood that's nice With flowers and trees and lots of little kids around Where public schools aren't breeding grounds for
down Who said it was easy claimin' Dogg Pound I believe I got good skills We been makin' music since we were kids That's all I wanna do for life Keepin
You flip a chain cobra I'm a hit your Vien Motor One hundred and twenty five grange we arrange the rover Nigga trade ya rover for the redrum stains you
to me, big microphone hippie Hit Poughkeepsie crispy chicken, verbs throw up a stone Richie Chop the O, sprinkle a lil' snow inside a Optimo Swing the John
me that the radio's been playing the same song all day long So I told her I got something you've been waiting for I got something you've been waiting for
More chaws like monster jaws, I get ate like the balls I got to rhyme, too, I climb you like a stepson No weapon, but I got a rep, son, for taking fakes
for ceiling On the streets again, wild born, the enemy became your best friend Meet the game closer, maped out many ways to get rich Ay yo, for real
