| when i was still in school, and living at home,
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| daddy used to leave my mama alone.
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| it was hard on us all but we didn’t complain,
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| cause daddy made the rules, mama felt the pain.
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| when daddy was around, he did what he could,
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| to make us all feel like a family should.
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| but when he was gone, mama couldn’t cope,
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| and i was in the streets, dealing in the dope.
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| there used to be a church at the bottom of my street,
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| and every day the reverend he was on to me.
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| he said son, you better straighten out your life,
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| or you’re gonna end up in, the devil’s soul pile.
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| now the sun used to shine, the wind used to blow,
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| the rain used to fall, and tears used to flow.
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| i had an attitude, thought i was tough,
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| you’d never see me smile, my hood was just too rough.
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| too damn rough.
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| i paid no attention to the pastor or his flock,
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| i had better things to do on down the block.
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| but one night, when walking by myself down the street,
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| a junkie pulled a knife, pushed it in me deep.
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| the last thing i remember, was running til i fell,
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| screaming don’t let me die lord, i’ll surely go to hell.
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| and the reverends words, kept running through my mind,
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| you’re gonna end up in, the devil’s soul pile.
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| well i’m a survivor, from the streets of la,
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| lucky to be alive to see another day.
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| i was blessed with a family, who did their best,
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| and the lord god almighty, he did the rest.
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| repeat 1st two lines of. |
| and then;
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| i dropped my attitude, i’m not afraid to smile,
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| and i’m never gonna end up in, the devil’s soul pile
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| Writer; |
| Tommy Roe, copyright 2001, publisher Roeboat Music, LLC/Tunecore
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| Digital Music |