| Okay, I remember the days | 
| High rights, low lefts, even stevens and fades | 
| Troops, Lottos, and BKs, those was the days | 
| Hi-tec boots spray painted witcha names | 
| T-shirts airbrushed that read the same | 
| Thick herringbone chain, one gold with yo' initial | 
| Harris Photos, group shots, can you remember? | 
| Barry him told his bitch go to the prom and die | 
| Didn’t lie shot his-self in the head with the 4−5 | 
| When she disobeyed, had North Clayton crazed | 
| Just to reiterate dog those was the days | 
| Fo' the invasions of haters, man crews from all around | 
| Used to get down at True Flavas, bumpin Key Lo | 
| Rockin Damage, Cross Colour and Paco | 
| While playboys stepped in talent shows | 
| Prom night, tux and Kangol was so cool | 
| Fuck them new model cars we ridin' old school (old school) | 
| We were tryin so hard | 
| Hard to survive | 
| Cause even though we were young | 
| We had to stay strong | 
| No matter what we went through | 
| It was me and my crew | 
| And that’s how it went | 
| When we were kids | 
| In 3 months we stayed in Jamestown | 
| Hamwood and Diplomats | 
| Played with Transformers, G.I. | 
| Joe’s and Thundercats | 
| We was lovin' that | 
| Before they started jackin jacks | 
| For notes from Red Oaks had folks scared to come through | 
| College Park after dark, Crown Victorias police unmarked cars | 
| Be aware, Wayne Williams was out there, but we ain’t care | 
| Kids was gettin stabbed and ditched out there too busy playin | 
| Double dare ya touch shorty on the ass, that’s a bet | 
| Want your Kool-Aid and sugar, smack your hands and say «sweat» | 
| It’s mine now place it in my Louis Vuitton pouch | 
| Thump a nigga on his knuckles make him say ouch | 
| Slouch socks, box Chevy Caprice | 
| Hot Niss, cut da whole Disturbin' Tha Peace | 
| Wit no conscience, broke niggas call 'em non cents | 
| No comments, it’s Lil' Fate payin homage to College Park | 
| We were tryin so hard | 
| Hard to survive | 
| Cause even though we were young | 
| We had to stay strong | 
| No matter what we went through | 
| It was me and my crew | 
| And that’s how it went | 
| When we were kids | 
| I had a Long John but no Silver, no gold or plat | 
| I was simply red from the years I been holdin' back | 
| With two sides to a book I lick stamps and light matches | 
| And set fires in garbage pails and cabbage patches | 
| A child of the corn been wild since I was born | 
| Climbin' over barbed wire, clothes got torn | 
| Shoes got muddy and my clique turned cruddy | 
| Wherever I go they went they my buddies | 
| I brush teeth, brush naps and calm streets | 
| Dreamin' of Cadillacs, wood wheels and plush seats | 
| Cats with gold teeth and raps with such beats | 
| Macks with no grief and some sacks of green leaf | 
| When I loaded my cap gun I was ready for action | 
| Starin' at beer cans and a moment to crack one | 
| Wanna hang with the big boys and play with the big toys | 
| And be with the people makin all that got damn noise, man | 
| — repeat 2X |