| Ayo, on this joint right here man we bout to just break it down to you
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| Man just the transition to becoming. |
| a man (This from the heart)
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| That some of yall gone have to go through man everybody on the sound
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| Of my voice (This from the soul)
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| Everything gone be cool man, From Boys to Men
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| No one to doubt me, I’m not here lonely
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| Childhood secrets still wid my homies
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| I recall days when I blazed up on the hill
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| Not knowin' wud the future would hold, just kept it real
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| We ridin' on the 'Lac with the boys to other schools
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| We catch 'em at dey football games and act a fool
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| And everybody know my name, it’s Michael Troy
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| We made all them bullies respect Falcon Boy
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| I got my folks worried, I’m suspended everyday
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| Sometimes I ain’t tell 'em and caught the train to the A
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| The FirePoint Station, Supreme location
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| I’m only 15, tho at the lil' scene
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| No one to pry me, I’m all alone
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| No one to cry on
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| He’d shelter from the rain. |
| to ease the pain
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| Changing from boys to men
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| I’ve done seen stabbings, i’ve done seen shootings
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| I’ve done seen a robbery, i’ve done seen two
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| But I ain’t even 15, so when i turn 16
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| Im’ma get dat chrome thing wid da beam
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| My team was da wreckin' crew, like juice
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| The type of niggas on our side do, who was the truth
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| I bet them killaz on his side respect game
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| That other nigga from the southside, was lame
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| My name is Stone, Charlestown to the bone
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| Lil' Wayne and Scooby, we rocking MCM and Gucci
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| I’m nine years old, that nigga let me touch a Uzi
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| I wanted to kill, just like i saw up in the movie
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| No wonder one of my friend shot himself in his head
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| Playin' wid the gun from under his mothers bed
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| Don’t wanna call his name too tough, we’ll call him Fred
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| We watch my nigga while he bled (when we was young)
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| Lord knows we be tryin hard, God watching over us
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| Mama told me «baby dun be goin to school cuttin up»
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| Did I listen, hell naw, listen let me tell ya’ll
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| Streets transform mamas only into eight-ball
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| Errywhere I go, niggaz know I speak that poetry
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| See my +Chilouette+ like I’m +Alfred Hitchcock+ and they know its me
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| Bottom line met a lot of niggaz on the grind
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| Getting them dimes
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| Murder they ass, escape the scene like I committed the crime
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| A friend of mine, don’t rap he doing illegal business
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| 18-Wheeler, Fed, X, bricks, did wid killaz
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| He smoke and dipped’em drunk with Crys and get to beating his bitches
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| Them bitches down though, come straight back after they get thru strippen
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| I’m outta' town, next to the church see his lil' brotha cryin
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| Told me his brotha killed himself, I said nigga you lyin
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| He put the gun to his mouth and blew his brain out
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| He couldn’t handle this goddamn shit that we sang 'bout |