| I wake up feeling different, back stiffened, joints cracking, snapping I mean
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| listen…
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| Some days I don’t wanna get out my bed at all…
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| They got me on a statin, I’m rapping wit high cholesterol
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| I would fuck bitches on the edge of the bed and fall
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| Off then keep fucking on the floor, but not anymore
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| Nowadays just the smell of Henny and my head is sore
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| A night out is dinner with the wife and Pinot Noir
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| Got a nice little crib out in Jerz, I’m in the burbs
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| No more roaches… Deers and birds
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| Sitting in my backyard while I write this shit
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| Pool cover over the water til it get nice and shit
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| Thinkin bout them project nights I’d ignite the fifth
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| Now I gotta Glock 48 that I fire legit
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| Think twice before you run up wit that okey doke
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| Cause My wife got the Sig case you want the smoke …
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| I member when home was looking through the peephole hoping the police don’t
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| Kick in my do' reach fo
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| They weapon and use lethal force on me and my people
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| Now I’m in Home Depot looking for a Gazebo
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| I was in them streets like Rico
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| But the boy from Puerto Rico ain’t get caught up in the Rico
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| It was OD package anytime I moved the diesel
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| Not it’s O. G status, new ways to move the needle …
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| A Young one in the slums
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| Where you ain’t posed to live beyond 21
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| They look at us as just numbers
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| On our way to being 6 feet under
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| But every now and then one of us escapes
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| And gets to live a life from outside the gates
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| God had big plans for lil old me
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| Salute to those who get to be a OG
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| I buried friends when they was lil kids
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| Too young to fully comprehend just what living is…
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| Where I’m from we celebrate those who did a bid
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| Stripes get earned when fire burns and you split a wig
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| We ain’t born evil, just is what it is
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| When it’s nothing in the fridge to stick to ya ribs
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| I member my clique sitting in the crib
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| Drawing straws to do sticks and get bricks like 3 Little Pigs
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| Some a call that surviving but hey…
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| If one of those went wrong I ain’t rhyming today
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| I don’t get to save somebody else that’s finding they way
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| Out the place u never get to live but you dying to stay…
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| This Azad on my wrist is tough
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| I wear it over the scar where my wrist was cuffed
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| All my real niggas listen up
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| You’ll always love ya hood, but when you leave you won’t miss it much…
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| A Young one in the slums
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| Where you ain’t posed to live beyond 21
|
| They look at us as just numbers
|
| On our way to being 6 feet under
|
| But every now and then one of us escapes
|
| And gets to live a life from outside the gates
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| God had big plans for lil old me
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| Salute to those who get to be a OG |