| Yeah, yeah, uh
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| Young Merc
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| For all my youg niggas (All of my young niggas)
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| On the block, Naa mean (On the block)
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| Going hard (Blow hard nigga)
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| Yo I was raised in poverty (in poverty)
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| Yeah, life was hard
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| Growin up 'round, killaz and hust-lers
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| I used ta, sit on the porch
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| Watch pops smoke luports
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| Trying when he was going to get his next bag to snort
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| I just sit back, deep in thought like (man)
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| Wishin I had a plan to make him a better man
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| But I can’t, but that’s what made it worse
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| Then I started smokin weed and hustlin work
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| I turned to the streets, fifteen, mind on cash
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| Highschool fliest nigga in the class
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| Why all y’all was studyin trying to pass
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| I was tryna, get the pass, to cut out and get ass
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| I was always ahead of my time
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| Neighbours in the hood said I be locked up
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| Or dead by twenty-five
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| But still I, Ride, wit my head high
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| Knowin I’m a young thug and I will survive
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| I can’t stop (I can’t stop)
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| I gotta keep it movin (I gotta keep it movin)
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| Knowin this life I’m livin (Knowin this life I’m livin)
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| It’s either death or prison (It's either death or prison)
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| Hard livin
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| Uh, the ghetto
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| We prayin, Lord
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| All of my thugs be given strength
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| POV Shitty
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| You ain’t gotta show me love when I’m wearin the glove
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| And I just found out my man done chick slugs
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| And my man rever diss touch down
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| Means alot of niggas on the streets ain’t really gon eat right now
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| Man I’m so mad dog, I can’t tell you why
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| If the Lord don’t bow down I’ll murder the damn sky
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| I’m to hot for this shit, please calm me down
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| I stay doing right, I stay doing wrong
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| I stay huggin my moms I lost in eighty-nine
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| I’m still bangin that nine I had since eighty-nine
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| You niggas feelin my vibe?
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| Man it’s hard to walk, man it’s hard to talk
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| Dog I keep quiet
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| Cuz playas wear wires when we start to bring the riot
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| I’m tired of this shit, take me now
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| I’m gon be back in a minute dog don’t hate me now
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| I heard the streets wanna smoke me
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| Dog, I’m to lokey
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| It’s murda
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| I can’t stop (I can’t stop)
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| I gotta keep it movin (I gotta keep it movin)
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| Knowin this life I’m livin (Knowin this life I’m livin)
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| It’s either death or prison (It's either death or prison)
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| Hard livin
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| Word to god, Yeah
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| I was only twelve when I first went to jail
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| Locked up and sparked it, fucked up and heartless
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| My moms had a habit, heron and acid
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| A bad lil' basterd always needed my ass kicked
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| A five member family living in one room
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| Cookin on hot plates, eatin on plastic spoons
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| I don’t esagerate, or imaginate
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| I had to go to jail to graduate
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| Growin up in Foster homes, You Fosters own
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| I had to get up, get out and get my own
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| Niggas was throwin bricks I’m tossin stones
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| Then I floss the chrome, the boss is home
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| But the block is gone, the cops is wrong
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| Yellow got paralyzed, Little Jemel died
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| Put me in hell and I still rise
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| Put me in the chair I’ll fry
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| Do my whole twenty-five
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| I can’t stop (I can’t stop)
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| I gotta keep it movin (I gotta keep it movin)
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| Knowin this life I’m livin (Knowin this life I’m livin)
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| It’s either death or prison (It's either death or prison)
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| Hard livin |