(feat. Three 6 Mafia, Project Pat)
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[Verse 1:]
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Street life killed my daddy
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Got my momma pregnant in the back of a caddy
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Since i lost my first tooth i ain't been happy
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Young wild nigga child why that boy is so nappy
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He got that devil in 'im
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Police wanna take him down
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Used to be a player but the coochie cost money now
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He ain't to bright but he know a trap when he see one
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Got is conscious in his pants with his gun
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[Chorus:]
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Seventeen years of rain foggin up my windows (yeah)
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It done been seventeen years of pain
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But i'm still here though
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Seventeen years of rain foggin up my window (yeah)
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It done been seventeen years of pain but i'm still here though
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[Verse 2:]
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Shoe box full of pictures
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All that's left of good times i shared with my niggas
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Some alive and some no longer with us
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How da, how da, how da hell do you pray for forgiveness
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When you got devil in you
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Rogain keeps the hair strong but Cocain keeps the cable on
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I can't wait till my nigga jb come home
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Why do all the real niggas stay gone so long
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[Chorus:]
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Seventeen years of rain foggin up my window (yeah)
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It done been seventeen years of pain
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But i'm still here though
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Seventeen years of rain foggin up my window
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It done been seventeen years of pain but i'm still here though
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[Three 6 Mafia & Project Pat (rap)]
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Even though a nigga still in the hood
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Gettin drunk and smokin on wood
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I'ma make it up out of this street life
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On the corner is where i stood
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Out there all by myself
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Cuz a player gotta get this mil
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Wearin fur ain't doin us no good
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Flippin burgers ain't gonn make you filled
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But i'm still ten toes in this Hustlin tryna make hood rich
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And i still ain't trustin no bitch Cuz the mother fuckers always snitch
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Its hard in this ghetto man
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Fifteen years old with coke and caine
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Cheese don't come i'ma go insane Snatch me a purse snatch me a chain
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Out here on the block with the fiends and the moon
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Squeeze on the glock tryna pop at a goon
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He done stole my dough he took my food
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Project wasn't born with a silver spoon
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In my mouth in my grill wear six chain then niggas get killed
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One in the grave the other in jail
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Nobody wins thats fo' real
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Back way when i was a runny nose
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runnin round
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Up and down the town
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Carrying a black glock and a gold frown
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I kept that product on me
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It wasn't no problem homie
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You said it i had it and met you if you stole my money
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Just tryna buy bologna but now i'm buying lobster
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Still totin a glock but pusing a rolls rouce and winning oscars
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[Chorus 2x]
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Still Here
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Lyfe Jennings |