| Testing one, two, three, four
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| Rappin 4-tay, Rag Top records, nineteen-ninety-six
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| West up, let’s do this
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| Yeah Four, you done finally got that parole-CALL
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| Yeah man, that was long comeing trying get that, man
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| I understand that Four, but a lot of people don’t know
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| What you’ve done been through bro'
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| Man, a brother done been in this rap game for ten years, man
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| I’ve been from hell and back, you know Frank
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| But what you gon' have to do
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| Is lay it down and lace it up like a shoestring
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| Ok, like this here…
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| Allow me to take you back down memory lane
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| When a player was so young in this rap game
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| Yeah, if you had a fight you best to knock a sucker out
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| Because moms wouldn’t about to let you in the house
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| Yeah, we had to throw em' in the days
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| Didn’t have Glock, never seen a twelve gauge
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| Wasn’t no banging n' gang affiliated deaths
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| Brother had to go to school in the days to get a rep
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| Always wanted to bust a gang of these raps
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| And be the first player to put Frisco on the map
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| So add this to the list of them hits that be knockin for the new year
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| I’mma vet in this rappin industry, you wet behind the ear
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| Shit, I even caught the San Quinton blues
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| Used to rock that motherfucker every night, I paid my dues
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| I talked the talk, but now I’m walking the walk
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| What up, fool! |
| Huh yeah! |
| Yeah! |
| What, what!
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| Im from the west but I don’t ride the saddle
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| Used to do a lot of battle
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| But you money are make your trunk rattle
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| Ever since the solar system, boys clubbing house parties
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| Rap contests at Booker T’S, man it was everybody
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| Snatching it taking it swoop on stuff all the way home
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| Once me and O' hit the jets, man we was gone
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| Up the stairs to the vacabt house, thats we’re we prctice at
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| We didn’t have a studio so man we had to work with that
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| No reel to reels, no mic, just the radio
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| Paper and oen and I was in, the heart of the ghetto
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| Trying to pursue my dream, trying to make things right
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| I posted up at other people’s shows begging to get the mic
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| I was kicking down doors, posted up, like the 49ers
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| All I wanted to do was bust a rap before the headliners
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| They pushed me to the left, I said alright, that’s cool
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| Now you call my booking agent, everyday, I paid my dues
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| I talked the talk, but now I’m walking the walk
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| What up, fool! |
| Huh yeah! |
| Yeah! |
| What, what!
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| The difference is you’re talking about the game you see I’m living in
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| And all my folks R.I.P, I’LL see you in a minute
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| Before I cut I gots to shock it cause I’m still pissed
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| For my mistakes, court dates and the time I missed
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| A lot of deputies in correctional facilities
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| I kept they ass up all night, but now they feelin me
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| From bangin on the walls and bustin raps off the top ten
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| Bet you never though I be the entertainer of the year
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| But why not, cause I’ve got, what it takes to represent
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| Crowd could be a hundred thousand, I’m never hesitant
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| Just ask Franky J. to drop me an old school beat
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| Them funky instrumentals kept me of the streets
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| They kept me motivated, I was always underrated
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| I bet my real folks wasn’t surprised when I made it
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| Plus I gave them digits back to the parole board
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| So now I’m cool, I’d been paid my dues
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| I talked the talk, but now I’m walking the walk
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| What up, fool! |
| Huh yeah! |
| Yeah! |
| What, what! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song I Paid My Dues , by - Rappin' 4-Tay. Song from the album Off Parole, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп