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mistah f.a.b. - if you ain't slidin lyrics

[verse 1]
all this money can’t bring my mama back
i still got memories of when i was tourin’ with the mac
and i still can’t believe that the jack got smacked
and i’d give this all up if i could get my brodie back
but mama raised a boy, so i’m thuggin’ it out
exposed early, man, they was sellin’ drugs in the house
born in it, they expect more from you
you ain’t the only one strugglin’, stop complainin’ ’bout what it done you
i was one, two when my daddy died
and fifteen later, that’s when mama took flight
but they raised me right so i’ma be alright
i had some hard days, but i’ma see the night
still trappin’ like i never made a dollar in it
these thug tears real life, it’s never a gimmick
project baby, project tenant, the rebels and sinners
red hot burritos, doritos or cheetos for dinner

[chorus]
i can find that i ain’t even lyin’
i get tired of seein’ people dyin’
hard out here, man, there’s no denyin’
just get out the way if you ain’t slidin’
it’s a jungle out here, it’s a daily war
and the other side plottin’, tryna up the score
i said the other side plottin’, tryna up the score

[verse 2]
and you could see my pain with my eyes closed
just like i could see the game through a blindfold
my daddy had aids, it was sad, seen him die slow
told me, “no matter what, son, just go get your grind on”
i made mistakes, i’m a human, i’ma make some more
i made money, blew money, but i’ma make some more
took some chances, didn’t win, but i’ma take some more
a soldier of the ghetto i could prove it through my achin’ bones
turn my scars to success, turn my wounds to wisdom
and havin’ knowledge of yourself is really true religion
can’t help n0body if you can’t help yourself and ain’t no truer vision
and these streets ain’t gon’ help you, keep playin’ and get threw in prison
find out who your real friends when tough times upon you
they go from treatin’ you like a king, now to tryin’ to p-wn you
like a ring that they don’t need, boy they’ll try to p-wn you
the only friend you need is right inside you

[verse 3]
get out the way, get a job or go back to school
and stay in school, lil homie, don’t be actin’ cool
you do the fool, they do the do and treat you like a fool
they’ll lock your -ss in a cage like a monkey, dude
ask any gangster that survived, “was it really worth it?”
and he gon’ tell you stayin’ in school woulda been his first pick
and he gon’ tell you it ain’t cool, all this turf sh-t
’cause it get dark when that demon really surface
is two years of havin’ money worth twenty-five?
or worse than that, before twenty-five you gotta die?
your son gettin’ raised by another man, treatin’ him like a sucker
your daughter loose like a goose, lettin’ n-ggas pluck her
it’s hard to set the perfect example for your little brother
your mom died, you ain’t get a chance to tell her you love her
gotta be a man, but shed thug tears when you under your covers
the streets is overrated on the real, brother to brother

- mistah f a b lyrics

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