Kembe X - Intro (Back in the Day) lyrics
[Kembe X - Intro Back in the Day lyrics]
I’m just another crack baby that you heard of
And that’s 94 til’ this
(’94 til’, so nigga what the deal is?)
Uh, I take three L’s to the head
Another three L’s getting bussed down
A triple beam scale for the raw
Uncut, no filler, that I flip for retail
Don’t shoot! The dope’ll kill ya
So dread the needle
The threads is lethal, the prophet’s speaking
Hypocrisy can be salt, the wounds is deep
Bitch, ya cuts is weak sauce
The stakes is so high
And me and my patience so dry
But still, my trash is yo dope
I mean my basement so high, look
On everything
The way I walked up in this bitch
They thought I won a Grammy
Young, marks is never felt
I’m surprised they understand me
Uh, runner up? You might as well
Have walked to come in second
I respect it, I’d’ve upped
The fucking chopper, got to wrecking
Fuck a opp, any sense, many clips
Plenty weapons
Best believe I’ma serve they ass
If they come for seconds
In a minute I’ma trip, our shit
Leave ‘em in a daze
And in a week, I'll be spitting in my sleep
Last month, I was in the Chi with the sleet
Yeah the streets so cold niggas’
Pockets full of heat
Niggas blast Lil’ Loose from The
Pocket to The P
And the V so sold I’m about to get it creased
Nigga we don’t fold
You might as well hang us
We fighting to the death
So you might as well hang
And since they cause a
Drop in your clientelle
Looking like, "That fat bitch back"
So you might as well sang
Back in the day when my father was a hustling
Hard knock nights
Life was harder as a husband
(And I remember) all out fights
For who had they way
Hard knock life for a crack baby
(This motherfucker was a) casket away from
A martyr to some dumb shit
Part of my mind was retarded by a substance
(I guess it’s real we) all got vices
Well as they say
Hard knock life for a crack baby
And that’s 94 til’ this
(’94 til’, so nigga what the deal is?)
Uh, I take three L’s to the head
Another three L’s getting bussed down
A triple beam scale for the raw
Uncut, no filler, that I flip for retail
Don’t shoot! The dope’ll kill ya
So dread the needle
The threads is lethal, the prophet’s speaking
Hypocrisy can be salt, the wounds is deep
Bitch, ya cuts is weak sauce
The stakes is so high
And me and my patience so dry
But still, my trash is yo dope
I mean my basement so high, look
On everything
The way I walked up in this bitch
They thought I won a Grammy
Young, marks is never felt
I’m surprised they understand me
Uh, runner up? You might as well
Have walked to come in second
I respect it, I’d’ve upped
The fucking chopper, got to wrecking
Fuck a opp, any sense, many clips
Plenty weapons
Best believe I’ma serve they ass
If they come for seconds
In a minute I’ma trip, our shit
Leave ‘em in a daze
And in a week, I'll be spitting in my sleep
Last month, I was in the Chi with the sleet
Yeah the streets so cold niggas’
Pockets full of heat
Niggas blast Lil’ Loose from The
Pocket to The P
And the V so sold I’m about to get it creased
Nigga we don’t fold
You might as well hang us
We fighting to the death
So you might as well hang
And since they cause a
Drop in your clientelle
Looking like, "That fat bitch back"
So you might as well sang
Back in the day when my father was a hustling
Hard knock nights
Life was harder as a husband
(And I remember) all out fights
For who had they way
Hard knock life for a crack baby
(This motherfucker was a) casket away from
A martyr to some dumb shit
Part of my mind was retarded by a substance
(I guess it’s real we) all got vices
Well as they say
Hard knock life for a crack baby