| That’s a set back, you know I’m saying man
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| Lil' Red, way back in the motherfucking cut man
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| Nigga was like shit nigga, I was like what come on man
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| Street lights are glowing, everyday’s another struggle
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| And moving slowly in silence, steady making sho' my hustle
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| Is air tight, these city streets is hectic gotta get it here
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| Tomorrow ain’t a promise to me, so I don’t live in fear
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| I work until I touch it, stack it until I need it
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| I spend it on what I want, re-up and that’s when I bleed it
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| The soldier could never see me, as being some’ing that’s lesser
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| A nigga straight out the gutter, murdered without a question
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| Product of my surroundings, click it clack it and and down him
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| All they know is he missing, but niggas ain’t never found him
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| I’m sorry but still in yet, I don’t live it on regrets
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| I’m a motherfucking killer, for realer this ain’t a threat
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| I’m as gangsta as it gets, and my advice to you is live your life
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| And never when niggas might, hit you under city lights
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| So get it right (never know)
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| You never know when niggas might, hit you under city lights get it right
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| Lord forgive me, cause I know I ain’t living right
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| Still I gotta make some’ing happen, under them street lights
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| But pay attention, let me show you what my life like
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| You can get your days cut short, under them street lights
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| Them folks got me under the scope, cause I ain’t living right
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| Still I ain’t the one to provoke, dog you get it right
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| 20 inch shoes when I cruise, under them city lights
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| Careful with the road I choose, cause you can lose your life
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| I’m praying and hoping, I never get caught in the moment
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| Shot from a Glock, that’s smoking from not scoping
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| When a nigga told me, you don’t work you don’t eat
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| So I’m slanging thangs for cheap, where the streets lights meet
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| And my pop, was a rolling stone
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| 15 I was grown, 16 I was holding my own
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| Is it wrong to sell you a dream, or sell you a zone
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| A long way from home, on this road I roam
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| Still I’m po’ing the liquor, for niggas who ain’t with us
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| Ery’body ain’t a gangsta, every nigga ain’t a killa
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| Naw but them laws, couldn’t tell ya the difference
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| So pay attention, or find yourself locked in prison this ain’t living man
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| Years have passed, and shit in the hood getting drastic
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| Two days ago, my homegirl got blasted
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| That’s tragic, happened right on my block
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| I’m feeling paranoid, laws might run in my spot
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| So I’m living low key, and them folks don’t know me
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| Slowly I ride through the city, stack mo' cheese
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| Then I slide out, to the hideout and smoke on
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| Haters watching, my chest is froze like a snow-cone
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| But hold on, trash talking ain’t my game
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| Rather pimp me a dame, or switch lanes in a Range
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| Peep this it ain’t a secret, them laws ain’t right
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| They like to catch a late night, living the life
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| That’s why I’m on top of my game, always thinking twice
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| Don’t get it twisted, I still got a mean right
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| But most of the time, my nigga I’m on chill
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| It’s real in the field, it’s easy to get killed |