Lyrics:
FOOD FOR THOUGHT
HOOK x4
To all my young niggas trying to make it
You wanna predict the future gotta create it
VERSE 1
To all my young niggas
god
But why do I (we) live by these man made laws
Ten commandments they say do not steal or kill
But I lost too many niggas and some say they
Ima wild young boy my path sorta rocky
Live by a creed occasional dirty deeds
To see if I could be who I wanna be
I gotta be im sittin on a winnin
It's been a long time since you've heard from us
Dat Nigga Daz Dillinger and young Gotti Kurupt
And now we back wit a little rhyme
We can't stop
sifting through the ashes of old love|C |There's an eight by ten reminder|G|On the table by the bed|F|Perfume on the pillow| C|Where she laid her
on pork
Kurupt the world's fetish
They feen and scratch
I'm multiplied by twenty thousand
Fiends and crack
You add me to music and the fiends react
to the sport
Sport mode in my coupe
Watch me whip every move
My game is too smooth
They recordin’ every groove
That I make in this stu'
Classic jams by demand
you can't hear the silence
Even when it's there. Like the wind seen from the window,
Seeing it but not being touched by it.
*
Words sometimes
must've figured out by now
After everything I've said he must've figured out the truth about Sabrina and me
He must realize that I am Sabrina's father
Then
by this young bitch, a dumb bitch
I offered her ones, she wanted hundreds
She don't even drink, shorty sips SunKiss
Caught me on the one on one, always
down by law and I know my way around
On 42nd Street, lookin' for some action
Women standing on the corner selling satisfaction
One young punk just
i'm sell crack
but to a young nigga like me
a G ain't no turning back
trying to settle down is hopeless
when a nigga and a old lady
on my dresser
I got's to get paid, everyday, by the minute, by the second
Check it, I need to get to Houston
Need to get a Caddy sittin' on them deuce
Told him go for seconds boy is what you really
Im pretty n hood
Never seen a young nigga look this good
Im pretty n hood
Walking around like shit i wish
like the twenty-second
Come hither when I beckon
Son, you like every hour, you better check-in
Smoking moonrocks at the boondocks
Busting forty-five
But not because of our own strength
We're saved because H is mercy has no end
And by the washing and regeneration of our spirit
We become renewed
By
Here's a toast to the fact
That I'm a man and I can stand alone
And all my suits are made by hand in Rome
Ricotta stuff that Cannellon'
I'm in
[Lil Wayne talking]
Fuck with me, you know what it is
[Hook 2x]
I shoot your arm, leg, leg, arm, head
The heater burner bruisa is on my hip this
a mid-life crisis when you're ten years young
If this Jesus piece around your neck is bigger than your pistol
It makes homicide okie-dokie and your god will
straight so rapping helps me escape my terrors
If I told anyone what I was thinking I would be looked after by carers
You see nothing was seen to at a young
classics
Back to back cassette tape rewinding
I tell my story and they judge a lot
10 Years in the making
Still feel like a neophyte
Sometimes I lie
1: Napoleon
So more gun shots
By some young niggas
And now the media consider y'all some dumb niggas
And where you at
I done came from that
So I know
blitz with 10 seconds uh left (Huh)
Look left look right wide open (There he go)
Touchdown gah dam 2 you chosen (Chosen)
Camera's flick got me out here
a coincidence
Like feeling guilt stricken by your innocence
In a sense im livin in my second childhood
Don't pay a lick of rent, where I eat, sleep
And shit
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