Raekwon - Still Struggling lyrics

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Raekwon - Still Struggling lyrics

[Verse 1: The Notorious B.I.G.] I know how it feels to wake up f**ed up Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell People look at you like you're the user Selling d** to all the losers mad Buddha abuser But they don't know about the stress-filled day Baby on the way mad bills to pay That's why you drink Tanqueray So you can reminisce and wish You wasn't living so devilish s-sh** I remember I was just like you Smoking blunts with my crew Cause G-E-D was it B-I-G, I got P-A-I-D That's why my mom hates me She was forced to kick me out, no doubt Then I figured out Nick's went for twenty down south Packed up my tools for my raw power move Glock nineteen for casket and flower moves Four drunks trying to stop my flow And what they don't know will show on the autopsy Went to see papi, to cop me a brick Asked for some consignment and he wasn't trying to hear it Smoking mad Newports cause I'm doing court for an a**ault That I caught in Bridgeport, New York Catch me if you can like the ginger bread man You better have your gat in hand [Hook: Inspector Deck] A man with a dream with plans to make C.R.E.A.M Still struggling, Survival got me buggin' (Souls of a soldier in the streets of survival) Life as a shorty shouldn't be so rough (The rough life, I just be up nights. It got me) Lay out your maintain (In the everyday struggle) [Verse 2: Raekwon] I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side Staying alive was no jive Had secondhands, moms bounced on old man So then we moved to Shaolin land A young youth, yo rockin' the gold tooth, 'Lo goose Only way I begin to G off was drug loot And let's start it like this son, rolling with this one And that one, pulling out Gats for fun But it was just a dream for the teen, who was a fiend Started smoking woolies at 16 And running up in gates, and doing hits for high stakes Making my way on fire escapes No question I would speed, for cracks and weed The combination made my eyes bleed No question I would flow off, and try to get the dough all Sticking up white boys in ball courts My life got no better, same damn 'Lo sweater Times is rough and tough like leather Figured out I went the wrong route So I got with a sick a** clique and went all out Catchin' keys from across seas Rollin' in MPV's, every week we made forty G's Yo n***a respect mine, or anger the TEC-9 (Get live, muthaf~)