[VERSE 1: Mac Dre]
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Once upon a time, before I had a 9
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I didn't have to grind all the time
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Thangs was cool and brothers hung out
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The South with the North and the North with the South
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As time went on I started cravin for mail
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Then came the lley' and then I started to sell
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Money, money, money was all I knew
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Cause 24-7 the fiends came through
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Enjoyed this livin in the fast lane
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But little did I know it wouldn't last, mayne
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From sellin the base cocaine I caught me a case
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And then they put me away in a correctional place
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They said I was beyond parental control
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A hard-headed fool with no mental control
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But for months and months I wrote and wrote
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And when I got out of jail, I was funky and dope
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[Mac Dre]
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Yeah I was straight spittin it to them fools up there, man
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They didn't understand this mouthpiece I had, you know
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I knew I was comin up
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[Ray Luv]
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Yo, that's what I try to tell 'em, man
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They don't realize this is how you come up in the nineties
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Aiyo, but what happened when you got back to the hood, though?
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[VERSE 2: Mac Dre]
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Back in the hood thangs was so different
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The rollers was jackin and the brothers was trippin
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Uzis and 9's was kept in the trunk
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Cause the North and the South had high-powered funk
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Thinkin to myself: Dre, leave it alone
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Khayree hooked me up with a microphone
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Deeper and deeper the funk would get
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But I wasn't trippin, I had to keep spittin
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Now I'm cold chillin on the t-o-p
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And still ain't trippin off the funk, baby
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And if you don't get the point of the story I tell
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Quit trippin off the funk and make some mail
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[VERSE 3: Ray Luv]
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I grew up on the westside of Ro'
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Slangin and gangbangin, hangin and smokin do'
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'Stay in the house, don't even think about goin out!'
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My room was a jail cell, so young Ray sneaks out
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I run with the rat pack, stack that, jack that
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Need [?] go mack that
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Tender for dollars and don't take no less
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Than a c-note and stack that with the rest
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Thinkin and knowin it's all about the game
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Dropped out of school for big fortune and much fame
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Runnin around with a rag in your knapsack
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Necks is cracked, Jack, now you pack, black
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Why? To smoke another brotherman?
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Mac Dre, I don't see why don't understand
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[VERSE 4: Ray Luv]
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Never was much of an athlete
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Always craved stages and pages of rhyme sheets and rap beats
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Wakin inside my room through the late night
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Damn near goin blind writin rhymes by a dim light
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Changin up my styles, learnin to flow fast and slow
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Kickin the funky tempo, bass breakin the bedroom window
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But now at age 19 I'm made with a crazy fade
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Pockets feelin fat because a brother's crazy paid
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Back to where I used to kick it at
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But since it got crazy everyone comes with a gat
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Got myself a ounce and a bottle of boons
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I checked my watch cause I knew I [?] soon
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Now I'm just sittin here thinkin 'bout days past
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When the police stayed in a brother's ass
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While some brothers every week were gettin bailed out
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I stayed my little black behind out of the jail house
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-----------------
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They Don't Understand
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Mac Dre |