Lyrics
This yo life
Yo. You got ups and you got downs, man
You got downs and you got ups
We all go through the same thing on different days
Don’t act like you ain’t like me
What you don’t put your pants on one leg at a time?
What’s goin on wit cha playa?
Let me tell you something, man
I might even tell you 'bout yo life on this one
Lookie here.
(La, la la la la la la, la la la, la)
These are things we all go through
It’s everyday life, just me and you
Don’t feel bad
I know you feel that
(La, la la la la la la, la la la, la)
Things will happen every day
Around the world or around your way. We just
Tell the story. Tell the story
Where can I start? Start at the part
He at the park, playin his part
Proving his role, weightin them O’s
Just got fronted an eighth of that blow
Now he burnin the pot, watchin it rock
Back on the block wit a few in his sock
New in the heavy, cops in the Chevy
Scopin his every move already
Smooth and deadly, cool as belly
Prob’ly get popped right in front of the deli
The ghetto Tomallan, his tools was heavy
His crew was ready to do whatev (er)
He got juice, but not tryin to turn in the powder
Now he burnin the pot & he watchin in rock
Chop, rock, swap, recop
Chop, rock, swap, recop
(La, la la la la la la, la la la, la)
Chop, Stop! You popped, we cops!
Swallowed that work and he ran up the block
He only thirteen, he ain’t know what it mean
But he lovin the green, the American Dream
(La, la la la la la la, la la la, la)
His momma said stop, and he poppa was hot
Couldn’t just stop, cause he coulda got shot
They move him down south to straighten him out
And he still sellin dope with a bill on the house
(La, la la la la la la)
But what you gon' do when it’s all up to you
Stuck in a cell, ain’t nothin to do but
Tell the story Tell the story
Here we go now.
Jenny was bad, she stayed on suspension
Hung around guys, she like that attention
Give her daddy an honorable mention
He wrote her letters while he was in prison
Brother ain’t home, momma was gone
Workin them doubles, now she all alone
Stuck at the crib with no food or a phone
What you think a young girl gon' be on?
Party at Jen’s house, people would come
Sippin that sizzurp, hittin the blunt
Underage kids could come and get drunk
Did I hit it? Well maybe just once
She had a boyfriend, they was in love
He had a job, he was sellin them, uh
Same shits on the streets
Now she gettin two letters a week singin
«One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do»
When you’re lookin for love and Daddy ain’t there to hug
«And two is the loneliest number, it’s as bad as one»
When you’re hurt in your soul thinkin nothin could fill in that hole
This is startin to get old
Got me feelin like whales in a fishbowl
In the city where summers can get cold
Bring yo army and Hummers gon' get stole
Everybody & they momma got bad credit
It don’t matter, we ball like we athletic
On the run from the cops till we asthmetic
In the house with that belt and yo ass met it
This ain’t nothin but life for a ghetto youth
That I write and then spit in this little booth
If I lie I still mix it with little truth
And like li’l dap nigga, I’m livin proof
Don’t get mad cause I’m stuck in this glory
And y’all rappers ain’t got nothin for me
But right now I guess the
Story’s over Story’s over
Say it loud. Rhymefest. Allido Records, man
We document the story for you
Puttin it down
Chicago
We just tell the story
Nigga don’t bore me!
We outta here