| Hey baby, how you doin? |
| What’s goin on?
|
| I’m sittin in my motherfuckin cell, it’s the same song
|
| Tell my kids that I love em but don’t tell em that I’m doing
|
| Keep tryin' and tell em I’ll be home soon
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| Oh baby I’m goin crazy
|
| Cos I keep seein shit that amaze me
|
| Still I had to kill a motherfucker last week
|
| He thought I was a punk and tried to creep up on me in my sleep
|
| I just think that I could hold or squeeze or touch or buck ya
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| But I can’t, so fuck it
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| I’mma behind these bars and it’s burnin like nitro
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| I might go psycho, the man on the tower got a rifle
|
| Aw shit, there the lights go…
|
| (Hello)
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| Chorus: LeShaun
|
| Mama, I’m in love wit a gangsta (damn)
|
| Mama, I’m in love wit a gangsta (y'know)
|
| Mama, I’m in love wit a gangsta and I know he’s a killer
|
| But I love dat nigga
|
| Bridge: LeShaun
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| Hey ba-by
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| What’s happenin honey?
|
| How you doin?
|
| I miss you
|
| Verse 2: LeShaun
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| The kids keep askin where’s their papa?
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| I had to tell em daddy got caught by the coppers
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| It’s time for me to raise em up proper by myself
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| It’s a goddamn struggle when a bitch ain’t got no help
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| Now everybody tellin me that you ain’t shit black
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| And when you get out, you’ll jack and probably go right the fuck back
|
| Damn, the pressure’s gettin hot and heavy
|
| And yeah, I’m gettin sweated by your homey in the blue and white Chevy
|
| But now he’s got a condo and a brand new Lexus
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| Wants me to take a trip with him down to Texas
|
| The ends don’t justify the means
|
| And in another life he might’ve been the man of my dreams
|
| But you know I got your back to the motherfuckin end
|
| But a bitch can’t even trip like she doen’t need a friend
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| Interlude:
|
| (Hello, you have a collect call from…)
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| Coolio!
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| (If you choose to accept this call please press 5 now)
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| Verse 3: Coolio
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| What the fuck you mean you need a friend?
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| I can’t be havin no niggas round my kids
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| Don’t you make me break up outta this motherfucker
|
| And start killin motherfuckers, SHIT!
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| I know it’s rough, I know it’s tough
|
| But when you fumble in the game sometimes you get locked up
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| You better stay away from that punk ass bitch, he ain’t shit
|
| And I don’t wanna have to kill him
|
| Cos think about the times that we used to have
|
| Don’t make me reach out and touch that ass
|
| You put yourself in danger when you fuck with a buster
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| Like shootin dice without a pistol in a circle of murderers
|
| You got more class than the average-type hooker bitch
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| Don’t switch, he gotta grip but he ain’t rich
|
| Now I gotta jet, but if you’ve got the cheque
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| Give a nigga a look and put somethin on my books
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| Peace
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| Verse 4: LeShaun
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| Aiyo remember the homey with the Lexus, he took the trip to Texas
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| Now he’s wearin the fuckin Lexus like a necklace
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| So tell me, what’s the drill, baby pa? |
| What’s a bitch to do?
|
| My nigga’s stretched in the pen since '92
|
| Them visits ain’t doin the trick, drop fucks make me sick
|
| Cos this po' puddy-tat needs a cat nip
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| And that motherfucker representin you, I think he resents you
|
| He got evidence he never presents to
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| The people in court, I heard witnesses abortin
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| What’s he doin about gettin you out to hold the fort?
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| I got some ends, I’mma send you a dime and two dubs
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| Mama hates you but damn I got love for a gangsta
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| Chorus to fade |