| Let me hear a stone croak,
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| I ain’t wit being broke
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| I’m tired of my mother bustin ass for other folks
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| gettin nowhere fast
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| while the ho on the corna makin mo money selling ass.
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| I ain’t wit this outfit, I gotta make some moves to by t jones some nice shit.
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| ??? |
| workin on som////da week
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| It don’t even fuckin make ends meet
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| I worked down on main st.
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| Dimes in my stomach cause I ain’t had nuttin eat.
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| So how the fuck am I supposed to think
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| when I’m in a funky sweatsuit and still bitchin to meet.
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| My ass is put and I booked non stop
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| Make the swap and go shop.
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| I say this and say that and every other note, I ain’t wit being broke.
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| Money, OH Money
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| I ain’t witn being broke
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| Got ta get my hands on some.
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| Chorus: Bushwick
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| I was born in a cheap ass hospital
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| from the fifth ward, stuck right in the middle
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| of a rock and a hard spot, before my dad got that ass I was already counted out
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| what a mutha fuckin pity
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| mama couldn’t afford milk so we had to suck her titties.
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| every night in the kitchen I’d see, rats and roaches eaten bettan me.
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| there was no thanksgiving, they say I’m a fool for thanking god for living,
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| but being broke ain’t no mutha fuckin joke back in 91 shit just ain’t happenin
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| foo.
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| I never had a goddamned thing christmas came and went, without a choo choo
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| train, in the geto, gifts get stolen or bought ain’t no mutha fuckin santa
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| claus. |