| Yeah, this sh*t right here sound like a love song
|
| (She was in love)
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| A gangsta love song, you feel me? |
| Check it out
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| (She was in love, with a THUG, in love!)
|
| (She was in love, with a THUG, in love!)
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| Yeah, gangsta, uh-huh!
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| Have you ever had a pretty, young saditty
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| Black female with chips, from the city?
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| Her momma got ends, and her daddy got ends
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| And she liked to give me ends when I’m out with my friends
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| Good girl — why do good girls like bad boys? |
| (I don’t know)
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| When I was a kid, growin up, I never had toys
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| And I think that she can figure that sh*t out (why?)
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| Cause everytime she came to pick a nig*a up
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| Sh*t, she’d take a ni*ga out
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| Roll around town, ask the pound, they know, look
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| Baby was my thang, nah, she was my low-low
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| Bought my first Rol-o, and then we took a photo together
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| Man I hope this thang last forever
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| We been together six months, and we ain’t argued yet
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| She lovin a ni*ga, steady buyin me sh*t
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| And don’t say sh*t when I dip with my click
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| And understand, when I’m down and out
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| May need some help with some chips
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| Her mother approved of me, but her father he don’t
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| He probably won’t, sh*t Pops ain’t no punk
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| Daddy’s little girl be in a gangsta’s world
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| Buyin me houseshoes and khaki blues, California curls
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| No matter what her father say, baby gon' see me
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| It’s like a jungle sometimes, that makes me Wonder like Stevie
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| Believe me, when I say that baby was in love with a thug
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| In love with a thug
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| (She was in love, with a THUG, in love!)
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| Daddy I’m in love with a gangsta
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| (She was in love, with a THUG, in love!)
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| Momma I’m in love with a gangsta
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| Mm. |
| I’m caught up in the middle and I don’t know what to do
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| I caught eight months in the joint, behind my crew
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| That I gotta do and I’ma miss you Boo
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| But I’ma write you every night and call you on the phone too
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| Whatchu gon' do? |
| «You know I’m gon' stay true
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| But I’ma go ahead to college like my father want me to»
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| Well um, off to my cell withcha body on my mind
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| And I’ma call you back tomorrow round the same time
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| I’m on the mainline, 9500 for short
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| On another phoneline, holla’n at my other hoe
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| This b*tch ain’t sayin SH*T, cause the b*tch ain’t SH*T
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| Old fat golddiggin-a*s county check receivin BEOTCH
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| I bail up in the Day Room and get in a scrap
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| Nig*az watchin Soul Train and I wouldn’t turn it back (man f*ck y’all)
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| Never caught slippin, always on strap
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| And now I’m back in the hole with no motherf*ckin getback
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| Sit back and contemplate, and think about baby
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| And hope she don’t get caught up in the world that’s so crazy
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| But while I’m up in Wayside, and she off in college
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| She gettin a little mo' than a schoolgirl knowledge
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| Cause gangsta-ass ni*gaz go to school nowadays
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| I tried to make you wait, but I can’t change yo' ways
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| She fell in love with the local G
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| And now they both in the penetentiary, she didn’t mention me
|
| (She was in love, with a THUG, in love!)
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| Daddy I’m in love with a gangsta
|
| (She was in love, with a THUG, in love!)
|
| Momma I’m in love with a gangsta
|
| (She was in love, with a THUG, in love!)
|
| Daddy I’m in love with a gangsta
|
| (She was in love, with a THUG, in love!)
|
| Momma I’m in love with a gangsta |