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merece a los OG's, and drive away as i listen to my oldies. Una vez mas, we better get along and have paz. The brown against the brown that aint the way
G Then drove away as I listened to my oldies Una ves mas We better get along and have pas The brown against the brown That ain't the way to get down
what I create boy, I'm actually great Homie, I used to stash cracks by the gate The couple stacks I would make went to Mac on my waist I could send
many Boi I got so many Boi I got so many Boi I got so many ways, ways to get paid Wake up every day Money to be made Poppas know my name Boys
Paid by the Bloods, raised by the Crips Soulo Ho the prophecies, atrocities, exhibition Oh yeah, now a nigga livin' good But good could be better I
that's the motto, .life goals get the bag, bag a model, SAD boy, newark ave, brown bag the bottle, fuck the BROWN bag, take a fucking drag off the pot
I've been through a lot But that's life At the end of the day we keep it moving It gets better on the other end It gets better Pa'lante let's ride That
wants to call, she wants to cry Dont wanna talk, dont wanna be whats underneat Of her brown eyes I want you to know She's better than you know She's
smashing, make it jump like everlasting God body Ramadan, thirty day fasting Six two brown skin fellow with the Caesar fade 360 waves, side burns with
thing she said Likes brown hair but when she was single she had a thing for reds Over-analyzing like an infrared I get instant scared, cuz mine is brown
just trying to change and show my kids a better way I been strolling in the dark trying to see some better days Cus I got too many homies locked away
you gave a thought - To where you at, how you doin man?, better check your head before my pulse knocks you down like James Brown (chorus) - This is
My man he always comes home late Never asks what's on my plate Doesn't seem to give a damn about my day Well I say okay I'll be gone one day He never
needs (Jesus, Lord) Sittin' by myself, I'm just thinkin' About all I've been through, I wish I was dreaming (Jesus) Man, it's hard to be an angel
needs (Jesus, Lord) Sittin' by myself, I'm just thinkin' About all I've been through, I wish I was dreaming (Jesus) Man, it's hard to be an angel
I was born in November, eight day 1971st y'all, nine o'clock in the mornin', a Christian girl in Kansas City gave birth y'all, She taught the kid
like 155 Smokin a blunt with the guys These are the good days the old days the good days I remember back in high school Ain't nobody gave a fuck about me
I told her I love her when I knew I didn't Nowadays love has a new description Got a collection of my favorites on the team Sippin' Bobby Brown
(Don't play with him) (Stephen Niday on the track) Yeah, you know what I'm sayin', SOS We ain't them it might be better to play with them We ain't
Welcome to my world We keeping it hot as a flame They can feel the heat from way back It's a new day I'm not the same Lost time then I found my way
then I realized As I looked up at Mom's brown body Covered by the night shirt And my brown hands and Brown legs Poking out of my shorts And Dad's white
up on your way to Work, see it all the time, always passing by Call it playing Beetle-bug, yeah It's on sight, better throw a punch Running late
you ready? I wanna take you way back To when a girl on a mike?s worth Wasn't determined by the length of her skirt I mean way back to creativity before
of that front seat then I set 'em by my side Somehow those son-a-guns got away Mama always told me that if you gotta make sure Then you better make
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