| The strong prey upon the weak
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| This is where I learned to stand on my own feet
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| So much I see
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| (On the streets of Venice Beach is where I cut my teeth)
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| So much I see
|
| (On the streets of Venice Beach is where I cut my teeth)
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| So much I see
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| Cut my teeth
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| I remember how it all began
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| I used to switch graffiti tips on cans with both hands
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| No chance, I knew they couldn’t stop this rush
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| Our bus bench was a stop, and they ain’t stopping the bus
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| I caught the fever, at sixteen I copped a beater
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| Now it’s me against the world, sit in my own two-seater
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| I drove slow on roads that lead freedom
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| What I believe in, known that I’d be leaving
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| Let me in jump up the timeline to currents events
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| I went around the world twice on award tours, it never ends
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| Mike Will did, but others didn’t make it
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| Others still hungry, so the others gonna take it
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| Shit is basic when you put it in the pot and let it simmer
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| Like the sun been setting later in the summer than the winter shit
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| Where I’m from I keep the oven sizzling
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| I cut my teeth at Venice Beach then hit my peoples with some of the wisdom
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| The strong prey upon the weak
|
| This is where I learned to stand on my own feet
|
| So much I see
|
| On these mid city streets is where I cut my teeth
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| So much I see
|
| On these mid city streets is where I cut my teeth
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| So much I see
|
| Cut my teeth
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| I learned a nickel cost more than a dime before I learned to rhyme
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| Crenshaw and Venice, St. Charles is more specific
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| Then Pico and Fairfax, the Ethiopian district
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| Everything changes, noticing both of them look different
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| I can think back though life goes on so keep living
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| Didn’t step to OG’s on the block to seek wisdom
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| Or I’d be cripping, but they teach the street systems
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| Street soldiers and street politicians, I’d keep listening
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| Smoking in the homey’s rental, blazing instrumentals
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| Something like a steel elephant trunk came through the window
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| Eyes traced the barrel to a friendly face (caught you slipping)
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| Broke the blunt, gave us back the lit half and kept dipping
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| Had that beach cruiser whipping, then stopped, he turned around
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| Came back and told me, «It's a war zone, go home
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| Draw something, matter of fact, write something raw for me
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| Call you tomorrow,» that was the last time that I saw him
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| But I took it as a sign, standing at the crossroads
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| I saw a different world was mine, it was with me all the time
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| Appreciative, never satisfied, inspired to climb
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| Eyes wide, mid city lit that fire inside
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| The strong prey upon the weak
|
| This is where I learned to stand on my own feet
|
| So much I see
|
| (On the streets of Venice Beach is where I cut my teeth)
|
| So much I see
|
| On these mid city streets is where I cut my teeth
|
| So much I see
|
| Cut my teeth |