| Hard times, look over your peoples cause everybody dying
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| Osama Bin Loden is dropping bombs man, in a situation like this
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| How can I reach calm man, calm man, my nigga
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| This is hard times, like its so much gun smoke and see the stars shine
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| We living on dreams but is they coming true, what I’m gonna do
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| Make a million and pull a stunt or two, a stunt or two
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| Step into the world of a mob nigga, live in so much pain
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| The rain steady pumping me up, locked down on hard times
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| But I’m knowing that I gotta make it, running on my deadline
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| Giving out flat lines, cause if you think that I’m feeling
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| Fucking up by mine man, I gotta maintain
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| Its like everything that I had, it won’t ever be the same
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| I feel I’m sicking home the cemetery
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| Cause that’s where all of my people rest
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| I can’t take the stress, I’m fin to send it through somebody chest
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| That’s why I walk around pissed off, strapped with a vest
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| I done been through a lot, ready to release the Glock
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| Vicinities South, a brother on my Dickie, I be ready to ride
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| And I’m sick of this shit, I ain’t fin to be hiding out, lately
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| Street life’s got a nigga lost, will I wind up in a coffin
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| I don’t know, I’m about to blow, I don’t wanna take no mo'
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| But when I bust in a rush, you better hit the flow
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| Reality is a motherfucker, that’s what they was telling a nigga
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| That’s just the truth, I lost my nigga Screw
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| And Relay too and Andrew, now what about Danny Boo
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| That’s fucked up, growing up in a childhood all alone with nobody
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| No mama no daddy, Z-Ro I see why these niggas can’t relate to us
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| Cause we them thugs of another kind
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| Making these niggas feel us two rhymes
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| Cause if they lived the life that we live
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| They’d probably be broke down, crying and dying
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| Living in the ghetto, everyday is a motherfucking test
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| And I just can’t rest, gotta keep a vest around my chest
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| Seem like everybody wanna start a little plex
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| Nigga but not me though, I’m trying to focus
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| On bigger and brighter thangs
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| Steady trying to come out the storm
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| From hurricanes, to heaven and lighter rain
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| Running away from the police
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| Nigga fuck peace, its all about war
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| Nothing but a AK and a HK and a Tommy Gun
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| Sitting in the back of the car, I just can’t cope
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| Everybody is a suspect, even if you don’t bust I’ma bust back
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| We down to ride and, all you little
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| Bitches and niggas get off my nut sack
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| Been 18 lonely years, since I buried my T Jones
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| When I be shooting the breeze
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| But I’m still conversating like she ain’t gone
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| You can take a look at this light of mine
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| Never did glimmer, never did shine
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| Cause I resort to a life of crime
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| And I know I’m wrong, but I gotta get mine
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| Fools don’t understand me, a nigga be nervous 24/7
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| Puffing on sticky, eyes redder than period candy
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| Look at my pockets, I might as well stop it
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| Because them hoes on flat, look in the freezer
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| And a sive, ain’t nothing but a stomach, these are hard times
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| Ro pass me the AK, one of these niggas
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| Fin to pay for everything that I’m feeling, ain’t no more healing
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| To the head with lead, is the only thing I’ma be drilling
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| My nigga this hard times, and the way that it look
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| I don’t think that it’s gonna get better, the only thing that’s here
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| Is to suck it up, inside I know that’s why we not giving a fuck
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| Ready to bust, on anything this life feeling, like we on our last breath
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| I’m quiet as kept, my nigga don’t start
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| Or else somebody gon see they death
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| Or hate us like that, but this side of Trae it be like that all times
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| The only thing that I know more than pain, is pain and me never dying
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| Poverty stricken and headed to prison
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| Running because of the life, you looking for codeine
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| Or amphetamines, I got em at the cheapest price
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| Living by the rules of the street life, fin to get niggas
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| Better beat the street light home, after dark I par-park
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| Everybody be tripping, attempting to get rich
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| Dig a bigger ditch bitch bleed, I’m a motherfucking man
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| Trying to do all that I can, I always held my ground
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| And I never ran, got shot for taking a stand
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| I need a plexing, because I’m stressing, losing my mind
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| Smoking wesson, my head I’m pressing, hard times |