Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Never Goin' Back , by - Mobb Deep. Release date: 03.01.2000
Song language: English
Never Goin' Back |
| Yo… |
| Ain’t no hard time invented that Havoc can’t handle |
| If cats only knew all the shit I been through |
| Homicide, suicide, am I, losin my mind? |
| Just, standin my ground keep it bottled up inside |
| Practice what I preach Dunn, ride for my loved ones |
| Asked about my life, no doubt had a tough one |
| Did dirt, got dirt, shit only got worse |
| Been asked God why he put me on this earth, yo |
| Not for nuttin Dunn, I want it all — can you blame me? |
| Niggas just be settlin for crumbs |
| How dumb, how come, with no outcome? |
| Ten years later niggas still in the slums |
| Strung off the next shit, dyin for they next shit |
| Foamin from the mouth for the next man necklace |
| And how about that, niggas too grown for that |
| I’m holdin it down, now where your head at? |
| Yo |
| Chorus: Mobb Deep (repeat 2X) |
| I ain’t goin back, I ain’t lookin back |
| I’m movin ahead, now how about that? |
| Hell no black, I’m where the paper at |
| Long as I don’t forget where I came from |
| We do it the Mobb way — leave em lookin like a strawberry |
| My outlook on life is quite very — positive |
| I’m a content fella |
| Until you tamper with my plans to go on further |
| Fuck the hassle, it ain’t worth my energy unless I must |
| If you insist, I’ll be more than glad til his beef marriage |
| Me and you til death do us |
| Scrape my fingertips on bricks, forty-two shot clips |
| That’s my shit, do it like the old timers |
| I use a wide holster, it’s more discrete while I’m post up |
| Or in motion, most niggas be floatin |
| Don’t even make eye contact, walkin |
| Dunn, pay attention that’s how niggas die sooner |
| Watch who you pass and it might be a reaper |
| Watch my niggas we’ll jump when you least thought |
| We came from the streets up, now we put G’s up, so |
| Yo, had time to think when just on the brink of death |
| At my front door me receivin slugs? |
| Only twenty-five, got fifty more to go |
| And knows, their plot I hope they ass die slow |
| How though no dough, please don’t show |
| Like my man Twist said don’t even see me when I blow |
| Got, issue with my foes best believe I’ma solve em |
| And laugh at your petty-ass problems |
| Out the slums of Queens, came a bunch of young gun niggas |
| The Infamous Mobb Deep |
| With dreams, of one day makin it big |
| With they Live Nigga Rap music, hard liquor swigs |
| Dirty Timbs, thirsty grins |
| Smile all up in your face then I break your chin |
| Went platinum, now them niggas writin scripts |
| Murda Muzik the movie, pushin spaceships like. |