al kapone - once a thug lyrics
[hook 1]
you b-tches just don’t realize livin’ in the hood is do or die
he was once a thug from around the way
he was once a thug from around the way
[verse 1: al kapone]
it all started back in the day when a n-gga was slangin’ rocks
just like pac, me against the world the sh-t just never stop
straight out the mob terrace back in 1989
mouth fulla gold new fur curl
tryna come up, sellin’ quarters and dimes
everybody in my hood knew a n-gga was straight
from the jump i had to come real
just like my n-gga big will
watchin’ out for the cops
jumpin’, grab for the knots
broke -ss [jockers?] with fake -ss jewelry try’na come up one the rock
(my n-gga talked [?] let me know who is true)
never say your sh-t to a motherf-cker you don’t know, fool
the number one rule
(because them undercover tricks be try’na pop a call)
bashing there money ain’t got no drugs, get the f-ck on
but every then and now a n-gga had to take a chance
it’s all about coming up and only the strong survive
fools, so what’s up
f-ck singing a sad song i got’s to get my hustle on
[hook 2]
he was once a thug from around the way
he was once a thug from around the way
you b-tches just don’t realize livin’ in the hood is do or die
[verse 2: al kapone]
everyday is a struggle, sh-ts always on my mind
looking for a way out, but it seems like a n-gga just can’t find
got to keep feeling like marvin g-ye, i’m just a troubled man
gotta get myself a plan
get on my feet know what i’m sayin’?
so, i’m hooking up with my n-gga
said he gon’ f-ck a quarter pound
on some california chronic and memphis
man, you know i’m down
got my beeper from [?]
brother from just who plays my c’s
holla my dawg, money by decade
get it crunk in dixie queen
cocaine wayne set up chopper on wigs
(haters look to [?])
this is how we do this sh-t
(bring the whole motherf-cking cl!ck)
real n-ggas work together don’t matter how good or bad the weather
ddt doing there d-mn thang, fool what ever’s clever
keep them cross outs the f-ck out of our business
when a n-gga be doin’ dirt them honky -ss cops be looking for snitches
and you know we can’t afford to let’em catch asleep
no more being -ss out, mane
we gotta get on our feet
[hook 2]
[verse 3: taylor boy]
big glocks and nut locks take a listen
cause i’m about to take you on a motherf-cking mission
black gat it’s t-shirt, fresh gut and grey chucks
380 on my side and in my pockets br-ss knucks
i finna hit the st–ts where ain’t no love for a n-gga
i gotta stay strapped, cause in 1928 ain’t no k!ller
ain’t no ice on feet, so why in the h-ll should i be slippin’
puttin’ in works the only way i make a livin’
been a g it’s wroten i don’t wanna be [?]
livin’ on the edge of my godd-mn life
now fools talk sh-t to gert the upper hand
but in the end they find out what a man, what a man, what a man
because i’m taking a sucker and hangin’ him up like soap on the rope
ease back motherf-ckcer cause ain’t no goddam joke
[busters short pants saggin’ rouhgh neck style]
another n-gga with his finger on the trigger, going buck wild
[hook 2]
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