| I remember we was wilin'
|
| Off of half a x pill, this was way before tha Molly
|
| Everybody got a rocket
|
| Tryin' to prove like a motherfucker, try me I’ll pop it (I've stopped)
|
| Webbie on the Henny fucked up
|
| This was when I was skinny and fucked up
|
| Nigga cluckin' for blood, get fucked up
|
| Memphis grisly, nigga we fucked up
|
| You remember that December when they ran with the money
|
| Baltimore tryin' to sue us, niggas playing with the money
|
| Went to war had a lot of niggas running
|
| Behind bars like a boss, how I’m coming
|
| Cancer hit I got scars on my stomach
|
| I remember all the nights you was stressing 'bout your momma
|
| Made me pick the phone up and call my motherfucking momma
|
| And say «I love you momma»
|
| We was young and fucked up in the head
|
| Drinkin' from the river if you fuckin' with my bread
|
| Had a little money, but we living in the red
|
| Living in the red, meaning we ain’t got it like we said, keep it real wit' it
|
| Remember we first got a deal, nigga
|
| And you dropped «bad bitch» gave me «that shit is real nigga?»
|
| I was still in the field with 'em
|
| You was telling' me to quit, I was telling you to rap
|
| I was walking through the mob with a strap
|
| 10 chains on, I wasn’t going for the jet
|
| Beefin' in the city where the niggas, they attack
|
| Boozie Badazz' boys bigger than his rap
|
| Remember when I told you I was going to the can
|
| You like man, my man, you going to the can
|
| I felt in your hug, in your hands
|
| Told you I’ll be back in a minute
|
| Left the street, now I’m up in penitentiary
|
| And I’m hearing all these pussy niggas hating
|
| Saying damn, Boosie shit, Webbie going crazy
|
| We all going through it, pussy nigga stop hating
|
| Well I told 'em, I remember
|
| Remember they ran up in your house, got your bag, nigga
|
| Same time I was beefing with these rap niggas
|
| You had twins, they was beautiful as ever
|
| «Be a dad,» what I told you in the letter
|
| I remain the same, how I ended in the end
|
| I’m always preaching game, nigga you don’t need to drink
|
| Then you go preaching game, nigga you don’t need to sing
|
| Why you drinking Henny, nigga why you selling Bourbon
|
| Where it did, well you must be fucking with his nerves
|
| Can’t you burn these CDs, we gon' stomp you on the curb
|
| In that Monte Carlo when we first start to swerve
|
| Me, you and ball-head in the car full of herb
|
| Then we getting to it, now we fighting like some girls
|
| Who gon' drop first, nigga acting like some girl
|
| Never went to Church, man 'cause Saturday was turnt
|
| Miss one night of pussy nigga, they be burnt
|
| We thug life for real pussy nigga, you be burnt
|
| When we was kids, we just wanted our turn
|
| In the hospital, me and you don’t learn
|
| 'stead we asking God, give us one more turn
|
| I remember, Webbie |