| Yo, yo, check it
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| Yo, for real, comin' atcha
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| Yo, it’s like this, yo
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| Never give up, never give up, never give up
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| Keep holdin' on, gotta stay strong, keep your head up hung
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| Yo, what you say to a brother when he straight up wrong?
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| If you feel you all that, then lets get it on
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| I got no time for the bullshit, I’m quick to snap
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| But if worse come to worse, I whip out the gat
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| Back down from no man, I’m a brother with heart
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| But I’d rather build first, mad swift with darts
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| Street brother, with knowledge of self at nineteen
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| Same jam, master a hundred twenty degrees
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| Been around for a minute, in a land of gold
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| Brooklyn, East New York where I started to flow
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| Coup Devilles, rag time bottles with bells
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| Feel me, phat Caddy’s like Sam Cassell
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| Mad brothers, my block was a flock of black sheeps
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| Wasn’t a house nigga, so we house the streets
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| Gettin' knocked by the cops, now and then we pop
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| Few shots in the air, let 'em know we was here
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| Time flew, but now I’m gettin better with age
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| Flip a new page, time to unleash my rage
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| Yo, look in my eyes, tell me what you see in the dark
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| Want a move me out my seat like Rosa Parks
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| Mentally enslaved brothers never change they ways
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| Exploit the youth, now my vibes negative grips
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| Buyin' in to the fake graph maternity stamps
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| Cash it while I fuck it, yo i’ll see you tomorrow
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| Black woman you a queen, but I doubt your strength
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| Watchin' the two fuckin', run around, half nude
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| Flashin' guns and clips, diamonds and phat rocks
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| African brothers died on them chopin' blocks
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| Don’t despair, now you wanna cover your ear
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| Monkey see, monkey do, fuck wrong with you?
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| In fifty states, you cats can’t carry the weight
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| Wanna mention, what ya’ll need special attention
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| Never degraded my race, come face to face
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| Rappers more of a joke then a ray of hope
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| I ain’t sittin' on my ass just to turn my cheek
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| Hip-hop be the art and I’m the masterpiece
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| You cats with fake images, watch your back
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| Practice what you preach, cause that shit is wack
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| But what you mean you ain’t down, you ain’t rollin' with us
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| Cause you livin' mad large, and your crib is plush
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| Must’ve forgot, you the same little crab from the wood
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| Punk from the hood, frontin' like this shit all good
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| Movin' up in the world, even switch the gas
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| But you know to this day, I still whip that ass
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| Ain’t nothin' change, nothin' but the time of the year
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| Still trot through the hood like Paul Revere
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| Vision my vise, my peeps is black and dilated
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| Brothers quick to cross the streets, intimidated
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| Ain’t my fault, cause I got that New York walk
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| New York talk, blame it on society’s fault
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| Brothers stay bebbed up, I’m prepared caliss
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| Ready to give my life because I’m doin' a bit
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| Bagged the eighth, figured it was worth the weight
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| Crack a bottle over the head of your fake role models
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| Bitin' the such of must, give up ways and plus
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| I be damned if I let the song self distruct |