| Intro: Trace Blam
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| Yo, check, yo
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| Verse 1: Trace Blam
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| Remember when good times was lifting rocks looking for monsters
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| And not the 9 to 5 grind for dollars chasing a profit
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| Nostalgia is my state of mind when I relayed to that topic
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| I stayed on campus cause my man’s made it to college
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| I kept a 3.5 on the average and sold them shits for sixty
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| Always getting busy with any bitch with the biggest titties
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| Cali orange purple kush for powerful grasp
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| But for weed bags was criss crossing color me bad
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| Instead of partying responsibly and calling a cab
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| I was drunk driving, young buck thumb on the gas
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| Rest in peace to all the peac of shit whips that I crashed
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| And took confetti almost deadly kpt a piece of the dash
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| Now that’s a ways away from hide and seek to playing freeze tag
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| Then negotiations that made Jim Carrey The Mask
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| They tell me slow down I’m moving too fast
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| But I live for the moment and let the photos take it live in the past
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| Hook: Trace Blam
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| Remember back when all the music was live
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| Doing bad was like doing was fine
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| And street lights was how you going outside
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| Your people’s had they music playing real loud
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| So you ain’t, mind take me back to them times |