Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Glory Days , by - Cormega. Song from the album The Realness, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 23.07.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Aura
Song language: English
Glory Days |
| Yea Spank, what up my nigga |
| Sup, baby whats happenin' |
| Yo son man, look at this shit man |
| Times be fuckin' changin' man |
| Know what I’m sayin man |
| I wish we just go back sometimes |
| You know what I mean |
| No doubt son, you know we all wish |
| That man, but we goin' through transition right now baby |
| Son as long as I got my niggas with me |
| But let me reminisce yo |
| I’m about to take your minds on a trip |
| Cuz everytime I rhyme I kick 'The Realness' |
| Remember niggas used to take gold frames and snatch chains |
| Infact that changed, cuz the era of the crack game was real |
| Mad nights, I used to daydream |
| Wishin' I could be the next Alpo? |
| or Green? |
| for Fourth Ring? |
| I used to be magnetized to fly rides |
| Had a scheme to get my cream and eventually rise |
| I became a little nigga gettin' money type often |
| Livin' the ill life, sportin' Nike Delta forces |
| I saw Scarface and got my first taste for power |
| I never knew grams of powder could make bags of dollars |
| I spent hours writin' graffiti |
| And niggas like Smitty made gettin' rich look real easy |
| Remember when… |
| Damn son you takin' a nigga back right now |
| Yo, to all my ghetto legends, whether live or in the essence |
| Facing fed time or in a pearl white Lexus |
| Sometimes you gotta sit back and just analize |
| 'Cause nothin' moves faster than the hands of time |
| And I remember when the whole drug game was hot |
| Son a cop got shot, in Southside Queens |
| And tactical narcotics teams making headlines |
| Being big time could get you fed time |
| Undercover vibe, pouring out just like red wine |
| Mega keys, gettin' C’s 'bout D’s |
| I heard stories 'bout bulletproof 300 E’s |
| Yo the mind of a analist is mine so handle it |
| The way I right rhymes, considered a gift |
| I used to wish that I could be fly like Black Trent |
| Rockin' Fi-las, rhyme was the thing I couldn’t de-ny |
| I used to read about supplies gettin' busted |
| Cuz guys that they trusted, made deals with D.A.'s, minds corrupted |
| The feds estimated Fat Cat was gettin' millions |
| Black Ratti was the richest nigga in my building |
| Remember when… |
| Yea son was doing his thing |
| Before my story ends, rest in peace to Killer Ben |
| And live niggas memories you live again |
| Sometimes I close my eyes and just reminisce |
| And wonder how alotta cats got so rich |
| I can’t forget RK, he introduced lots of loose rocks |
| A few cops, and alotta sales from rooftops, yea |
| You shoulda seen the deez when Will bought the red 3-Roller |
| Memories of those days are golden |
| Yea, for all my ghetto legends |
| Ever burrough, all my niggas who was thorough |
| Yea, knah mean |
| Know what I’m sayin' son |
| Niggas was holdin' it down back then |
| Fat Cat, Tony Montana, Big Wall, Queen |
| Niggas for the team |
| Motherfuckin my man Supreme Magnetic and Four Green? |
| All them Brooklyn niggas |
| Alpo? |
| and all them mobstyle niggas doin' it uptown |
| Boy George all them Bronx niggas |
| Niggas was seein' money back then son |
| The Glory Days, know what I’m sayin' |
| Y’all niggas know what I’m talkin' 'bout, word |