Al Kapone - Once A Thug lyrics

[Hook 1] You b**hes 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***a was slangin' rocks Just like Pac, me against the world the sh** 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***a was straight From the jump I had to come real Just like my n***a Big Will Watchin' out for the cops Jumpin', grab for the knots Broke a** [jockers?] with fake a** j**elry try'na come up one the rock (My n***a talked [?] let me know who is true) Never say your sh** to a motherf**er 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 d**, get the f** on But every then and now a n***a had to take a chance It's all about coming up and only the strong survive Fools, so what's up f** 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**hes just don't realize livin' in the hood is do or die [Verse 2: Al Kapone] Everyday is a struggle, sh**s always on my mind Looking for a way out, but it seems like a n***a just can't find Got to keep feeling like Marvin Gaye, 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***a Said he gon' f** 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** (Bring the whole motherf**ing click) Real n***as work together don't matter how good or bad the weather DDT doing there damn thang, fool what ever's clever Keep them cross outs the f** out of our business When a n***a be doin' dirt them honky a** cops be looking for snitches And you know we can't afford to let'em catch asleep No more being a** 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**ing mission Black gat it's t-shirt, fresh gut and grey chucks 380 on my side and in my pockets bra** knucks I finna hit the steets where ain't no love for a n***a I gotta stay strapped, cause in 1928 ain't no k**er Ain't no ice on feet, so why in the hell 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 goddamn life Now fools talk sh** 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 s**er and hangin' him up like soap on the rope Ease back motherf**cer cause ain't no goddam joke [Busters short pants saggin' rouhgh neck style] Another n***a with his finger on the trigger, going buck wild [Hook 2]