Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song My Life 2.0, artist - Crooked I. Date of issue: 13.02.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
My Life 2.0 |
| 1970-something and mama’s in the studio |
| Pregnant with Dominick while she was doing a song |
| Until her water broke in the booth |
| It’s not a joke it’s the truth |
| From that point let’s move it along |
| To the fact that my father was a rolling stone |
| Before we knew it dude was gone |
| Mama gotta do it alone |
| Who would’ve known |
| At the same time that she gave me life she might’ve ruined her own? |
| Cause she already had a son before me |
| Living in the big city, she young and lonely |
| Put her faith in a nigga but his love was phoney |
| Said he would hold her down while she sung her songs, G |
| Then he bounced. |
| put the pedal to the metal |
| No more record deals, we living in the ghetto |
| Gangbang, drive-by, homicide, place full of puppets killing each other |
| Uncle Sam is Geppetto |
| Five years-old when I seen my first murder |
| Playing outside, I heard shots from the Ruger |
| Four or five bullets put the victim in the bushes |
| Then I made eye contact with the shooter |
| Ran in the house, told my mama somebody died, I’ll never forget… |
| It was a white boy from Hoova |
| All she could say was «Hallelujah!» |
| «You're safe!» |
| Then she asked God to protect our future |
| Life as a shorty shouldn’t be so rough |
| Got my hat low, white tee on, gun in my waist, I’m a gangsta man |
| Flat broke, living in the hood, gotta get money so I jumped in the game |
| So many people I know… get killed like it ain’t no thang |
| To you it’s crazy, I know! |
| Real niggas gonna feel my pain |
| 1990-something and mama’s little boy’s growing up |
| All the thug niggas calling him Crooked |
| It was a name that she never understood |
| But in the hood |
| Negative is positive so Dominick took it |
| Look at the way that he hang with the older niggas |
| Man them OG’s gave him a gangster style |
| A gun in the waist, a knife in the pocket, a pair of brass knuckles |
| Some mace and even straight razors now |
| Those… are the tools you use |
| To survive in the most dangerous place you could raise a child |
| Mama can’t afford nothing other than Section 8 |
| We’ll escape |
| One day I’mma make her proud |
| But now I dropped out of school, sitting in a drug spot |
| Bagging up weed while my older brother slung rocks |
| Trying to get paid, watching for the punk cops |
| If they run a raid, they gon' be up in these gunshots |
| Take over the world shit, do it like Scarface |
| Banging on the news, helicopter and a car chase |
| This is the point where adrenaline make your heart race |
| Fuck sleeping under the jail cause of a narc case |
| Wasn’t the life that I aimed to choose |
| A nigga could’ve been the next Langston Hughes |
| But I landed in a place |
| Where you can get shot in the face |
| By a young banger trying to pay gangster dues |
| How in the fuck can I change my views |
| When I have to stab a nigga for trying to take my shoes? |
| Never won much, but I hate to lose |
| Only way that you could relate is if you played the blues |
| That was back when |
| But even back then |
| Mama made men out of the boys in the house |
| And I remember coming home fresh from a shootout |
| This is what she said with a joint in her mouth |
| She told me «Life as a shorty shouldn’t be so rough» |
| This is my life, man. |
| This is my life. |
| I was manufactured in the hood, man. |
| Read the label. |
| Read the label they got stitched on the back of my neck. |
| It says «Made in America.» |
| Ghetto America, ya heard? |