| Born and raised in P.G.C. |
| where being me was easily
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| The hardest thing I had to do. |
| Knuckles stayed black and blue
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| And if your gear wasn’t in style knuckas they would laugh at you
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| Booking dames with game but if you’re lame youngins' is smacking you
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| (Down there) I’ve seen it all from robbery to murder
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| And all my dogs be using slang you probably never heard of
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| Bush is slang for bullshit, the irony
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| That it shares it name with the same suckers that lie to me
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| Beat is on some O.G. |
| shit the perfect grove to ride with me
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| P.G. |
| vs. D.C. was like constant sibling rivalry
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| We’re all family through the positive and negative
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| These wars in our streets repetively take our relatives see…
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| P.G. |
| at it’s worse can eat alive a family
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| I’m lucky just to share this verse surviving the insanity
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| These eyes have seen some things that most people could never stand to see
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| That killed a little boy and brought alive the man in me
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| This is for Landover, Cheverly, Forestville, Suitland
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| C.H., D.H., whatever hood you in
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| Hyattsville, Mitchellville, New Carrolton, Largo
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| And everywhere else in between youngin' yall know
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| From the average Joe or folks that’s rapping and sing
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| To the local Go-Go bands and bamas clapping them things
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| Before my ass moved to the County of Kings
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| I was a Prince George’s Boy just doing my thing
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| I’m from the home of cats like Sugar Ray Leonard and Martin Lawrence
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| Where I first picked up a microphone ready to rip opponents
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| Where fools be ditching school for a truckload of wings and mambo
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| And movies like menace had the whole hood thinking they’re gun-ho
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| Some know, but don’t have a clue how we do
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| Rappers borrowing our slang and try to use it like it’s new
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| But we’ve been calling bamas young since the days of old
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| When you didn’t get shot maybe your face got stole
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| If you’re never on the map then you’re forever in my heart
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| Regardless where I end up at P.G.'s where I got my start
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| Where every hood I lived didn’t respect me until I fought
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| And a bad one’s what they caught if «He's pussy» is what you thought
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| Same youngin' that did karate and stayed drawing and rapping
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| Rather go to your body than get involved with some clapping
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| Never thought I was Gangsta but I’m real without a doubt
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| Dudes be joning on your mama ‘til you steal them in the mouth
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| This is for Marlow Heights, Bladensburg, Laurel
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| O.H., T.H., wherever you call home
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| Upper Marlboro, Greenbelt, College Park, Lanham
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| And everywhere else in between youngin' stand up
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| From the average Joe or folks that’s rapping and sing
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| To the local Go-Go bands and bamas clapping them things
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| Before my ass moved to the County of Kings
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| I was a Prince George’s Boy just doing my thing
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| They use to tell me «Stan dog you gotta spit that realness»
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| Long before other brothers did it for a deal shit
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| But I never killed shit at all maybe steal from a mall
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| Getting draws from a youngin' that I chilled with
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| Battle rhyming wasn’t popping in my hood like that
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| They didn’t hate though ‘cause little youngin' could write raps
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| Got serious with while living on Brightseat Road
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| I became known for choosing unlikely goals
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| But we gotta make the most of these lives we chose
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| All the shit I saw in MD help me write these flows
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| Not as wild as I use to be wifey knows
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| Young, dumb and full of cum could barely wipe my nose
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| Seen them all from righteous queens to trifling hoes
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| Fronted on ya boy Stan ‘cause they ain’t like his clothes
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| Was a nice guy so why come they spite me fo'
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| Oh yeah didn’t have that hundred dollar Nike doe
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| Acting bougie ‘cause their fam moved from South East to Bowie
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| Or Landover to Fort Wash. our rents less than their door knob
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| Even broke with no job they watched this youngin' go hard
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| Wherever I rest I’m holding down home like Coast Guards
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| Ohhh M-D (I can’t hear you)
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| Ohhh M-D (I know that’s right)
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| Ohhh P-G (you better let them know)
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| Ohhh P-G (alright now)
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| To my people in Seabrook, Bowie, Greenbelt, Morningside
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| Ft. |
| Wash, Langley Park any where you reside
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| Clinton, Adelphi, Brandywine, Brentwood
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| P.G.'s in the muthafuckin' building don’t it feel good
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| From the average Joe, folks, that’s rapping or sing
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| To the local Go-Go bands and bamas clapping them things
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| Before my ass moved to the County of Kings
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| I was a Prince George’s just doing my thing |