| The year is 87'
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| Back in the 12th grade G When I used to hang with CH to the IP hangin’in the halls
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| Tryin’to get the young bitches ridin’my ballz
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| We got dissed cuz we were jog’and kept to ourself shyo
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| Because it’s all about self
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| We used to try to get the number and the name
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| But back then — they wanted mothafuckaz in the dope game
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| We used to try to fuck with ho’s
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| In our graduatin’class there was no woman givin’up the ass
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| We go to a dance, we see ho’s rollin’eyes on my crew,
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| But what the fuck can I do?
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| They would’nt even give a nigga like me a chance thou
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| Because my feet was my transport
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| You ax 'em to dance they start to riff
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| And on the way home niggaz never gave us a lift
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| But now the tables turned around
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| Every mothafucka and his mom would wanna be down
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| I see the bitches at the clubs, the same ones
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| They’re thinkin’they’re fine and also runnin’the same line:
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| What’s up Ren, we used to be in the same class
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| I’m shakin’my head yeah, now listen to line ass
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| They ax me what have I been up to,
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| Knowin’damn well I made money for my record sales
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| I zip on my drink and say see ya Cuz only a four leg and pregnant mud can be ya'
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| People that used to hate me Now when they see me they speak first
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| But used to demon raps cuz I cursed
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| They used to say I would’nt make it cuz I use profanity
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| And call myself a Nigga With an Attitude
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| But once again the tables turned around
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| Niggaz tryin’to be down — walkin’up like a hound
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| Especially the ones that never had nothin’to say
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| Now they talk to me like enow and everyday
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| Axin’me what’s up with Eazy
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| Or Dr. Dre, yo did he marry Miss She’ly?
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| Or did the D.O.C get his voice back,
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| And niggaz think I’m mean when I say I’m not a magazine
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| Cuz when I come around I wanna kick it The … is axin’me for concert tickets
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| The same fools, that used to go to my school
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| When you see my on the streets just chill and be cool
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| So if you realy wanna be down —
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| Don’t crowd around a nigga like a hound!
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| The hound-dogs, they come in all shapes n’sizes
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| Jackin''round Ren with a gang o’surprises
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| Nothin’but a groopy in sheep’s clothin'
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| The shit makes me lough when the homies want an autograph
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| I feel like I’m on a talkshow
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| Because they ax all the questions then say they gotta go Never wanna know how I’m makin’out
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| All they wanna know is when my alboum’s commin’out
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| Or ax me — 'Yo Ren, when are you goin’on tour?'
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| I tell 'em 'the same time like I told you before'
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| Then there’s always one beggin’for me to kick hm down
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| For pissin’on my leg I never knew you you fuckin’hound!
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| So go back to your home and fetch yo’bone
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| And quit retrievin’on mine cuz nigga you got your own
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| And talk about me behind my back — nigga please!
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| So much of a hound, all you’re missin’is your flees
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| Scratchin’all day because you’re itchin'
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| You’re tryin’to get news wishin’you was in my shoes
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| But trippin’like that you’d never be down
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| Cuz Ren don’t likes a fuckin’hound —
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| You straight hound-dog! |