| I started throwing down when I was only three
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| My dad knew how to fight and he passed it on to me
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| I practiced with my brothers then we took it to the block
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| I went to school and found the bully
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| Cleaned his fucking clock
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| My mother got so angry
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| She tried to raise us right
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| No matter what she did to me I always loved to fight
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| Seneca kicked my ass down on 4th and Wallace St
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| You’d think I learned my lesson but I fought him in a week
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| Win or lose, it’s no different
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| I guess I love the energy
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| I can hear my mother calling
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| «Come and get you boys cause they’re fighting in the street!»
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| I’ve made some friends across the years and a couple enemies
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| I’m d own with LBU my family across the sea
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| I’m not the greatest fighter and I haven’t won them all but I still can see my
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| fathers face and hear my mother call
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| I drove through my old neighborhood trying to reminisce about the places that
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| I’ve been and faces that I miss
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| I’ve learned about forgiveness and a little self-control
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| But if it’s time to rumble fuck that shit it’s time to fucking go |