| Yeah, Willie The Kid
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| Bright lights, street lights
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| Summertime in apartment 409,
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| Had to clean up the kitchen with 409,
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| It Was cookin up work, while my granny at work
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| My big cause he ain understand me at first,
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| He said, the court room or the casket,
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| I’m like dude, either way you need cash and a nice suit,
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| The street lights where I found my strength
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| Be with four rich men, and you bound to be the fifth
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| Let’s go
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| I lost my daddy at a early age,
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| Told my mama don’t cry for me,
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| If I trade tomorrow in for yesterday, oh how much different my life would be,
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| But that’s in my dreams, back to reality,
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| Tryna get outta these street lights, so I won’t have to live this street life,
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| No more, No More No
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| Just gotta learn to deal with problems,
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| If you’re young and from slum with no father,
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| Got killed when you was little, still got mama,
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| She try to tell him go to school, but why bother
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| When gettin' paid is the only way to solve 'em
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| Seems the stars get farther and farther
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| Out of my reach, out of these streets,
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| Will they ever make it big
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| Cause I lost my daddy at a early age,
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| Told my mama don’t cry for me,
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| If I trade tomorrow in for yesterday, oh how much different my life would be,
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| But that’s in my dreams, back to reality,
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| Tryna get outta these street lights, so I won’t have to live this street life,
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| No more, No More No
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| I ain’t ashamed to say that I shed a tear
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| Thinkin bout my dad I wish I had him back,
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| I’d give up everything just to have him here,
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| After this storm and rain I have no fear,
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| Gotta keep holdin on, hold my head up strong,
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| I know it won’t be long until we’ll be together again, foreal
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| I’m livin' for the moment
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| If I could turn back the days
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| Sure, you could turn this back
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| Hey, I was born with the hustle, never been a sucker
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| Daddy wasn’t in the crib, dat made me tougher
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| Momma struggled with the bills, Dat made me stuff up
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| Powder in a sack, which made me dumber
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| Now I’m standin on the corner, bag full of Marijuana, Crack
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| Pistol my pocket for anybody who disrespect
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| In the trap chillin' where robbers and killers, kick it at
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| My arms up in the feds for ten, they say I’m goin' in
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| Haaaa, bet dat I’m a stretch that, backish to this rappers
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| Show these niggas what I’m best at
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| Get a lil' check, flip it and invest that
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| Years later, oh now you see what my heads at
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| Like meals chasers, we be everywhere the bread at
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| You keep on hatin', you’ll be layin' where the dead at
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| You rappers suckers, you can tell them that I said that
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| If nothin' else but the hustle, you gon respect that
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| Oh yeah
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| I lost my daddy at a early age,
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| Told my mama don’t cry for me,
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| If I trade tomorrow in for yesterday, oh how much different my life would be,
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| But that’s in my dreams, back to reality,
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| Tryna get outta these street lights, so I won’t have to live this street life,
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| No more, No More No
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| Guess, this is my life
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| And I wanna live it right
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| I don’t wanna run the streets no more, no |