[KLC]
It was a long, long time ago
In the basement with no money but had talent to show
But the sh** wasn't right because the money was tight
But a mill and some street sk**s got me feelin tonight, right x2
[Mr. Serv On]
It all started in 92', just tight sounds there wasn't no beats by the pound
Just a little light skinned n***a with light eyes and blacks
I'm trippin, this n***a got a couple of g's worth of equipment and no
Muthaf**in strap This n***a gotta be somebody real
Cause in south east and it cost ya dc
Some n***a be tightin up his muthaf**in grill
I'm seein shysty n***as run in and out
Now I'm thinkin this must be a muthaf**in crack house
This n***a say he like what I do, he see a little potential
Now I'm like n***a what's up with you
All we had between us was hundred bars and ruffles
I know ya'll out there f**in laughing b**h it was real
All we had to do was hustle
I told em n***a do the music these bad times can't hold us
I did everything from credit cards to bad checks to bank tellers
Then we started dressin like goodfellas
Dressin in NBA teams uniforms everyday of the week
This n***a still doing fire music
And I'm pushin ounces of weed on the street
But we still ridin dirty and this old lady Caddy n***a one head light
f**in around the club, k**ing rumors, where n***as die every night
But we ain't trippin, we ain't got sh** to lose
Cause if I k** a n***a f** it, our sh** gon sell
I know we got on Serv-On we on the news
Yeah that's what we talkin bout
All you gotta do is catch one of your b**h a** n***as slippin
When I blast at that b**h that they talk with
[KLC]
Chorus x2
[Mr. Serv On]
So now I got my tape dubbed, we gotta do something
This n***a KL got two daughters and he workin on a muthaf**in son
Til we dead we ain't got no n***a to put g's up
Sleepy wanna lend a hand but the people f**in with him
He got his hands tied up
sh**, all we got between us n***a
Is enough money to get a kicken chicken plate
Me and these muthaf**a's with child support are always in my face
I still wanna call Boogie and Tarret
But them n***as got problems of they own
n***a they k** they homies time to leave they pistols on em
I'm from 6th and Berome, I ain't off the way
But n***as like Booty, Bozo, Cujo, QB, Mo, Vito, and T-Roy
They treat my like I'm they home boy
Now this n***a O-boy may he rest in peace
Talkin bout some jack the rapper sh**
f** it, we doing bad plus this sh** free
Now we three deep in the course, with a pack in the spare tire
I hope these Alabama police don't stop us cuz we hot like fire
I think about all the n***as we done left behind
But f** it n***a, I gotta go for mine
I don't know what I'm gonna do, I gotta go for mine
n***a, MC Dart
That's like the tightest muthaf**a ya'll never heard of n***a
Ya'll never heard of
[KLC]
Chorus x2
[Mr. Serv On]
Now we at the Mariott Marquis with no pa**es
Not for long, n***a I'm from New Orleans b**h we whoop a**es
I p**y a** label no name giving heard our demo
Try to beat us with hoes and limos, f** em I don't miss em
Now we in the lobby watchin d**h Row and Ruthless Records fightin
Tearin sh** up, and right in the middle like when I was young
That n***a P ran up with C-Murder with pistols in hand
Askin what's up n***a ya'll straight
sh** I remember a little group, now they platinum
I could keep a secret now I'm gon make my escape
P said n***a let's eat at this breakfast place
n***a told me about No Limit and took my demo
Gave us two hundreds dollars a peice and pay for the sh** we ordered to eat
Now we back home still struglin
I got a pistol with two bullets
One for me and one for the n***a that f**in with me, I'm thuggin
I done beat some n***as out for some paper
KL got tax problems, don't trust me when we in the money caper
Now P back home lookin for some n***as for some Down South Hustlers sh**
I'm lettin club rumors and I'm like dogg take me out this b**h
He ask me if am I trippin on Chris, n***a f** that b**h hit me bustin
But I can't leave without KL
Now we on the plane with me and the rest ain't hard to tell n***a
We made it
[KLC]
Chorus x2