| Yeah… I mean, M.A.D.E, no mob shit
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| Money, Attitude, Direction, and Education… some real
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| Shit
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| Think about my hood one time, my hood… it's trippin'
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| Thinkin I’ve changed, crossed niggas
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| Where we go wrong
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| I’m from that two-bedroom apartment, Marcy
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| 5−3-4, that middle building… yeah, they say it started me
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| I’m new to it but consider me young
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| Seen it all happen, ain’t understand what was done
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| But, all I wanted was the fly kicks fly shit
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| Little nigga but still kept a fly bitch
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| And back then it was love in the hood
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| Knuckle up with ya dog and fuck it, it’s all good
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| Now, I’m in the crib rippin up to go to war with 'em
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| Same little niggas I used to steal from the store with 'em
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| I go and get 'em from school
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| Used to take the same bus, same train back then we was cool
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| I broke bread at lunch with 'em
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| And if mom’s left me with two singles, then you know
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| I’m splittin one with 'em
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| We cut school in the building I lived in, one floor higher
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| Smokin and gettin higher
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| Damn, think of age, now we locked up north
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| It was like yesterday we was practicin sports
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| Went from flippin on mats now he flippin in the box
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| Locked twenty-three hours up a day, he in the max
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| Ain’t no lookin back because this life goes on
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| We was kids didn’t care about the rights and wrongs
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| But, nobody judged us the ghetto loved us
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| Streets, the only thing that ever took something from us
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| I lost a couple friends
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| But I promised and prayed that if I make it, Im’a see 'em again
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| I admit, I was wild as a child
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| And my mom’s ain’t like none of my friends who use to call me Ismhael
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| My brother stayed on punishment, mama found out he hustle and
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| Found couple jacks, her plan she thought of flushin it
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| Me, I’m in the streets I swore, never change
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| My brother caught a case, I came up, won’t do the same
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| It’s all about my days, this is all about my nights
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| This is all about my pain, this is all about my life
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| I got my first work, about the age of fourteen
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| My brother fighting a case his bail was fourteen
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| Me, still hustlin, school not going
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| My clothes started changin, the money started showin
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| My right hand was owing every ho we know
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| She represent us through the ghetto every hood we know
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| He put me on on that traffic, though the money was average
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| I ain’t care I learned how to handle that package
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| Then, a body dropped, O locked for minute
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| The squad it never died, I was left to represent it
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| Took a nigga out his crib his name I ain’t gon' mention it
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| Know this hit home, I know this nigga listenin
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| Cause we was tighter than brothers where did the love go
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| I called your mother my mom’s dog, I let the love show
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| This was supposed to be us
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| You was supposed to have the next verse dog, this was supposed to be us
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| And, you know I taught you the streets, taught you to pitch in
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| I gave you that gear got you all the bitches
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| I never thought you ever cross me dog
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| If they back me down in the corner, get 'em off me dog
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| Now I see exactly where we went wrong
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| When I spin through the hood and I see him, I keep it goin
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| Now the ghetto lookin at me like I changed
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| But, I’m still that regular nigga I’m still the same |