| How many of my TRU niggas actually get a second chance at life,
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| at their dreams? |
| not many, huh
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| Started off as a street thug, just hangin’and thuggin'
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| '89 went to jail for druggin’and muggin'
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| poppa please ain’t no fuckin’way for me throw base for years don’t mean you’re free
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| I know my TRU motherfuckin’niggas know how I feel
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| this shit’s real I wish my brother wouldn’t of got killed
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| for me to realize the game is wicked
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| shit can’t even trust the niggas that I used to hang with
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| huh, but I remember what my brother told me I know a real bitch by the way she hold me I love my TRU niggas like I love money
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| if you fuck with no limit you never find nothin’funny
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| and I take it to the grave with me if you shoot first bitch you better make sure you hit me cuz I’m known for choppin’keys on my mom’s table
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| I split a hundred G’s with my niggas Kane and Abel
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| fast money fast bitches is what I live for
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| until I caught a fuckin’bullet in the back, bra
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| they thought I was dead but I’m still in it
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| I’m back to life back on top ain’t no limit
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| Back to life (from the cradle to the grave)
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| Back to reality (some younsters on the streets tryin’get paid)
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| from the cradle to the grave
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| there’s some youngsters on the streets tryin’get paid
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| Back to life (from the cradle to the grave)
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| Back to reality (some younsters on the streets tryin’get paid)
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| Tattoo hennessy and weed
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| grew up in the project with killers and G’s
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| the Last Don is known for slangin’and bangin'
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| thug niggas 3rd ward Cali know where we hangin'
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| ghetto’s soliders mercenary we rhyme
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| this game is life or death and its your soul or mine
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| we don’t play no games boy just tryin’get paid
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| hope I get rich before they dig my grave
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| so many penetentary chances feds and demons
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| so many homies in the ghetto with their soul in strim
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| thank god we trust ain’t no man gone harm me my best friend be my lady cuz these fools are fonies
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| take heed I been beyond and back
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| I live my life through the lord, my homey, the greed and the back
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| I said: (Ughhhhhhh)
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| Back to life (from the cradle to the grave)
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| Back to reality (some younsters on the streets tryin’get paid)
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| from the cradle to the grave
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| there’s some youngsters on the streets tryin’get paid
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| you couldn’t tell me nutin'
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| a little ghetto child runnin’wild
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| shed tears trough years made it hard to smile
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| imagine homies dieing while you’re standin’right there
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| my reality’s your worst nightmare
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| and now I’m trapped in the whole fuckin’world of sin
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| Kill or be killed hit down by the hands of his best friend
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| you gotta know if you wanna live there’s rules to this shit
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| you can’t break 'em if you wanna be rich
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| and when my homey died and didn’t come back
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| I knew it was on nigga stressed god blessed
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| got his name on a tombstone
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| some of my friends go out before me and I walk that path
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| I spray paint your name on the wall and I sit back and laugh
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| you gotta make decisions make 'em all with precision
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| try to make moves and avoid prison
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| I remember the first time I laughed at the penetentary steel
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| when the told me spread lift the car I knew it was real
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| now I was just out there tryin’gain some strength
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| birds came to me one night told me Silkk you gotta change your life
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| but it was all or nothin’could never settle for second
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| gotta make the whole world feel my presence (Ughhhhh)
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| i told my homey don’t cry if I close my eyes,
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| (but Silkk the Shocker you too young to die)
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| Back to life (from the cradle to the grave)
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| Back to reality (some younsters on the streets tryin’get paid)
|
| from the cradle to the grave
|
| there’s some youngsters on the streets tryin’get paid
|
| Back to life (from the cradle to the grave)
|
| Back to reality (some younsters on the streets tryin’get paid)
|
| from the cradle to the grave
|
| there’s some youngsters on the streets tryin’get paid |