| From the cradle to the grave
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| Life ain’t never been easy
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| Livin' in the ghetto
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| From the cradle to the grave
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| Life ain’t never been easy
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| June 16th, 1971
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| Mama gave birth to a hell-raisin' heavenly son
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| See, the doctor tried to smack me, but I smacked him back
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| My first words was, «Thug for life!» |
| and «Papa, pass the MAC!»
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| I’m bustin' on these motherfuckers ballin'
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| Listen, you can hear my mini fourteen callin'
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| From out the window of my drop top
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| I got my Glock cocked, bustin' at niggas; |
| when will it stop?
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| Now, tell me, are you scared of the dark?
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| Can’t close my eyes, I see visions
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| And even with this thug livin', will I escape prison?
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| Penitentiary chances was an all day thang
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| The only way to advance; |
| and if you slang
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| Then you’d better have your Nikes on, ‘cause when we fight, it’s in the middle
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| of the night with no lights on
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| Hey! |
| There must be a God, ‘cause I feel lucky
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| Paranoid, out my mind, ‘cause motherfuckers tryin' to rush me
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| Am I goin' to jail? |
| Look at me bailin'
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| Comin' out the court house, all about my mail and bank
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| Never die, I’ll be a hustler, motherfuckers
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| Makin' thugs out you suckers, from the cradle to the grave
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| From the cradle to the grave
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| Life ain’t never been easy
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| Livin' in the ghetto
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| From the cradle to the grave, since a little bitty child
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| I’ve been known to get ill and kinda buck wild
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| Pop pop! |
| Just like the part that’s in my walk with street talk
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| I’m runnin' up the block in the dark where lead spark
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| Surveillance on a nigga every day
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| Waitin on my daddy just to take his ass away
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| Now Mama always workin', tryin' to make ends meet
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| So now a young nigga’s being raised by the streets
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| And then the only other one that ever showed me love
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| Was my dope fiend uncle, strung out on drugs
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| A straight thug, just me, my mama out here on our own
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| So I got two gats, one black and one of chrome
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| Now, I don’t wanna hurt nobody, but I must defend mine
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| It’s all the fuck I got, so stop and walk a thin line
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| Young niggas be brave
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| And keep on thuggin' from the cradle to the grave
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| From the cradle to the grave
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| Life ain’t never been easy
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| Livin' in the ghetto
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| From the cradle to the grave, I’m glad to say I made it this far
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| Many G’s died, hogs
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| And all they got was they name hit up on a wall
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| It’s sad thinkin' about the times, life goes on
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| I’m steady lost in this land, that’s the war zone
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| I gots no home, don’t have no friends neither
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| It’s just me by my lonely, so I married my Nina
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| I keeps her wherever I go, I love my ho
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| Never leave home without my sugar, I’ma have to plug a nigga
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| Mama told me not to trust no punks
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| And kick his ass if he lay a hand on me
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| Since then I been knowin'
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| Sometimes I think my own self stupid
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| ‘Cause I stay shootin' at marks
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| Get twisted up in police reports
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| Since the cradle, I’ve been ungrateful
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| My first toy was a gun
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| I got sprung and learned to love weapons
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| But now I’m through with money
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| And through with street fame
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| Somebody peeled my cap, and put me in my grave
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| From the cradle to the grave
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| Life ain’t never been easy
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| Livin' in the ghetto
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| March 18th, a rainy day my mama gave birth
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| To a baby boy trapped in Hell on Earth
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| From day one it wasn’t fun, I never had a crumb
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| Daddy worked two jobs and Mama won’t stop drinkin' rum
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| I tried to cope, loc, but my family’s broke
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| And my pocket’s short, so now I got ta slang dope
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| In the game filled with pain, it’s a fuckin' shame
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| The white man got a motherfucker slangin' 'caine
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| So now it’s on from dusk to dawn, I’m gettin' my serve on
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| Always in the spot with my Glock, slingin' rocks at the Rox
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| The shit don’t stop, I’m steady dodgin' cops
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| I never flip-flop, hear my Glock cock, thug 'til I drop
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| And if I hit the pen, I gotta do my time
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| Sittin' on my bunk, reminiscin' 'bout the good times
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| It’s fucked up a nigga gotta grow up doin' dirt
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| But from the cradle to the grave I’ma put in work
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| From the cradle to the grave
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| Life ain’t never been easy
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| Livin' in the ghetto
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| Time’s movin' fast; |
| will I last another day?
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| So I pray and I lay with my AK
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| Did I sell my soul as a young kid? |
| All the things I did
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| Wishin' someone held me, but they never did
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| I can’t take it; |
| will I make it to my older age
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| Before I’m shot up or locked up in a fuckin' cage?
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| Lord, help me, guide me, save me!
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| ‘Cause that’s the way that Daddy raised me: crazy
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| Do or die, nigga, pull the trigger, don’t give a fuck
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| You’d rather be in jail than get yo' ass bucked
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| Nobody cares, it’s me against the world
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| Keepin' murder on my mind and my TEC-9
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| I got nothin' to lose, payin' dues, nigga, you wanna die?
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| I get high and then my mission is a walk-by
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| You’d better jet when I hit your set, ‘cause I’m comin'
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| Start runnin', yellin' «evil mind» as I’m gunnin'
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| One in the chamber, for the anger that I build inside
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| For the mothers that cried, for my homies that died
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| The beginnin' is an endin', am I just a slave?
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| So I got to be brave, from the cradle to the grave
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| From the cradle to the grave
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| Life ain’t never been easy
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| Livin' in the ghetto |