Yeah
Seven years of this bullshit
SFD gon' put that shit on the line for yo ass
(Seven years of bullshit)
[VERSE 1: member 1 of SFD]
Ain't this kinda funny how the shit done changed now?
It's been seven years of the same old shit, had to put my foot down
Now I'm lookin through my eyes a little clearer
Cause next year, ah, I be the nigga in the mirror
Sellin tapes, now people wanna celebrate
Get me for a high rate on my contract - gimme my shit back!
I ain't no fool tryin to make no quick moves
I can wait, cause I'm already seven years late
From that bullshit, in one ear and out the fuckin other
Always borrowin my money from my pops and my mother
The music seminars, 'Jack The Rapper', 3 years
Do nothin but talk shit and drink beers
Fuckin hoes after other niggas' shows
Ain't that kinda tired?
Yo, I'm tired of that shit, I need to quit
But I'm gon' hang in this game till this game get my loot on
If I gotta kick mo' shit, let me put my fuckin boots on
[CHORUS: MC Breed]
Seven years, seven years
Seven years, seven years
Of sweat and tears
And what?
(Seven years of bullshit) [x2]
Yeah, I'm sick and tired
Sick and tired of the bullshit
B.S., I'm sick and tired of the bull [x2]
[VERSE 2: member 2 of SFD]
I love it, bein in the eyes of the public
Every time I made a tape, my niggas wanna dub it
If you wanted to count dub tapes up in my hood
Nigga, we went gold
Without one of em bein sold
But I'm tired and I'm sick
Sick and tired of that bullshit
Gettin thicker than liqour
Drinkin got a nigga thinkin
What should I do? Whatever I do, I gots to do it quick
Somehow I got to hit myself a lick
Put yourself in my predicament
What would you do?
Quick to get your cheese on
Makin the g's with ease on
The streets, cause the gees on
The streets say they got love
But where in the fuck is that love at?
Fat sacks, packin gats, black, I would love that
But they ain't kickin out no lick, so to hell with it
Let me bail with it
And I'm straight before the ace show up
If I'm number 1, then I'm stuck
In this business fucked
I done paid my dues, so what up?
[CHORUS]
Nigga, this ain't the chain gang, muthafucka
Yeah
[VERSE 3: MC Breed]
I've been on the road of my come-up since 1985
And I figured to get bigger, nigga gots to get live
I've strived to collect my dividends
(How you come up?)
A friend knew a friend knew a friend
I got an attitude, ain't no gratitude
About that shit you done did me with
Put no rubber on your dick, bitch
But I ain't even out to laid
I'm learnin to get paid
Layin my trademark down on the pave-
ment, and leavin niggas in the back
I'm makin hella tracks
But ain't no hella scratch
What the fuck's goin on, what the fuck's goin on?
When am I get my money on from kickin all these songs?
Yo, I'm fed up, and bout to head up to see the company
I'm pissed, I figured it out, these sons of bitches humpin me
And yo, that kiss is now a clip
Cause I'm tired of the bullshit
Now if you thought that was fat...
Wait until you get a load of this shit right here
You know what I'm sayin?
I'm on a whole other level
Man, ain't this a muthafucka
(That's Hennessy)
Bitch, dontcha - this shit weaker than a muthafucka
If you don't get down right...
Man, I'ma beat this muthafucka's ass
I don't want no Coke in my shit, bitch
I like my shit straight, no chaser
[VERSE 1: MC Breed]
Hey, I walk off in the club with two dubs off in my socks
Straight to the bar, order up a double on the rocks
(Why you drinkin, honey?) shit, what you got?
(I got Hennessy, Tanqueray...) it's a gang of us, we need a lot
I'm tweakin, hopin nobody's reachin for my weapon
Cause for me, I keeps it on cue, dog, I'm steppin
With Smith & Wesson, even when I'm drunk I'm givin lessons
And please no questions, it's just a part of my profession
I'm feelin twisted, the whole room starts shiftin
This double shot really got your nigga lifted
And you know Breed, I be all about the weed smoke
Tang or Boo-Boo no juice, Hen no Coke
And hoes start to provoke you to buy a drink
(Man, what's this?) shit, now what the fuck you think?
Now you're either drinkin with me or you're not
(Bam-Bam, what we drinkin?) a double-shot
Bitch
I like my shit straight, no chaser
What the fuck y'all trippin on?
You don't I like no muthafuckin Coke in my shit
What?
I ain't...about no muthafuckin drink
You out your mind
[VERSE 2: MC Breed]
Now tonight I think I'll have shot of Bumpy Face
(Okay baby, what else?) Heineken for the chase
(Okay) or better yet (what?) since me and my niggas stay paid
(Ah-ha) we'll have a couple of of bottles of Blue for Dollar Day
(Oh okay) I smokes mo' endo than you could grow
And I drink more drink that they could sell at the sto'
Woah! (what's this?) hoe's sippin on Moe
(Hey baby, what y'all drinkin?) a double shot to the flo'
I tips the waitress before I go, so she remembers me
I'll have no Coke off in my Hennessy
I like my shit straight, no chaser
[VERSE 3: Jazze Pha]
D-r-u-n to the k
Jazze Pha sip the Alizé anday
[burping] drunk as a fuck pervin
Straight swervin in my '94 suburban
All of a sudden I drop the bomb
Hit the dank, now I'm gone
What the fuck you drinkin?
(Straight Tanqueray, nigga, why?) it's got me thinkin
(That muthafucka breath is just so) stinkin
(Old broke-ass muthafucka) I might not be rich
But I gets drunker than a fat bitch
(Oh, so you tell me that you sip on a Colt 45 straight)
All anday, Saturday (Sunday?) one way
(Yeah)
Tell you 'bout my bitch
(Oh-oh, baby)
Some might even say she our bitch
(Yeah)
I don't even trip
(Oh-oh, baby)
(It's you I'm keepin nigh
You, baby, that gets me high
You blew my mind a thousand times
My savior of a troubled life
Laced up too just how I like
Everything sweet, a pure delight
You got me fiending day and night
Anticipating your very sight)
I was 16 years old when I met this hoe from Flint
And found she was out cold when I tried to let her through
Flashbacks of bein without her, with me
Fucked with me till I went and got her with me
Every day niggas ask about her, I know they on her
But I'm gon' hit this corner
To keep em from gettin on her when I want her
She appear, she in my system like a bomber
Name was Sinsemilia, that's why I love her
She never played me jealous, though
When I be fuckin with some other hoe that she don't know
She in the cut like 'I don't give a fuck'
She's just so potent that she know she got me stuck
Run over like a truck
To me it's all a pipe dream
I'm knowin if she leave then I be on fiend
Though, so I lean like I'm supposed to
Come up with something no one can come close to
She help out, sometimes she let me in
And tell me, "That's because I love the way you took me in
I work better on whatever if you got some gin
So get the Seagram, we can see if we can both win"
She like that, I write that dopeness
Cause she got my focus
Clownin like it was jokers
Buzzin like it was locust
The only hoe I ever loved
Since I came up in this muthafucka, that's My Dove
(Miss Dove, you got me feeling high
Miss Dove, so high as the star sky
Miss Dove, I place no above her
My Dove, the only hoe I love)
She was the baddest thing I ever hit
I think it was November back in '86
Outside the [Name] she was doper than those other hoes
I've been bent since her scent first hit my nose
Light-skinned, peach fuzz got me buzzin and chasin
Strokin her with my cousin in the basement
She's all I ever needed when I was rhymin
I started clockin and lacin my girl with white diamonds
And I was all in
About this time is when I started ballin
I never got caught above or fallin short
When haulin some dope from my niggas in Flint out of Detroit
She kick it with my when I roll her with my dogs
Smoked out, cause this is not your ordinary broad
'No future' brought me closer to her
I use the odor through my lyrics when I do it to her
She like that, and I write that dopeness
Cause she got my focus
Clownin like it was jokers
Buzzin like it was locust
The only hoe I ever loved
Since I came up in this muthafucka, that's My Dove
(Miss Dove, you got me feeling high
Miss Dove, so high as the star sky
Miss Dove, I place no above her
My Dove, the only hoe I love)
"Ooh, la-la-la
Look at fat, fat ass" when my girl walk by
Wearin shit like plastic and askin why
All these niggas in my area be actin high
Like they watchin Toni Braxton in they bedroom lie
Missionary and be very interested in I
Get up in her like a winner cause that ass too fly
I wish she had a pager
So I can hit her off with somethin major
I'm sayin she a hoe, I know, still a nigga don't pay her
24/7 she got her ass in the air
Fuckin with some other song
But I'm gon' still fuck her with no rubber on
That's where we at, everyday I be with my girl
Sometime I think she twisted like a jherri curl
Cause she be in these hoes' mouth constantly
Then right back in my pocket where she 'sposed to be
They say they always see my hoe off in the Bay
I guess I get with Davey, let him know I'm on my way
Hooked up the Yukon, the futon, I got the bomb, and it's all day
So let's get it on like we Marvin Gaye
And so I stay ever ready to be bustin like confetti
On your whole congregation of blatant player-hation
But she say, "Fuck em
Punk-ass muthafuckas ain't really sayin nothin"
She like that, and I write that dopeness
Cause she got my focus
Clownin like it was jokers
Buzzin like it was locust
The only hoe I ever loved
[Chorus]
I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
Get yours
[MC Breed]
Smooth as a wanna be, for quickly you a gonna be
(oh that's the way it is)
Fuck yeah and thats the way it's gonna be
Why, puffin on a dank and drinking mad brew
Taking names and after that I'm kickin ass too
Breed, kinda of tha (can I get a ryhme to go)
Hey yo 'Pac I'll set back and design it slow
They hate to see a young nigga, COME UP
Another punk, RUN UP and have to get his, GUN UP
Cause um I ain't takin no shorts
like a Newport, explortin the fully joint and
explodin on the whole court
And I don't wanna be, wanna be, nuttin like mike
cause even mike don't miss every itty bitty triflin
and when you in the spotlight, you get um jocked right
but your life's not tight
Buckin anybody forbid mine
When will they realize, I'm set out to get mine
[Chorus x6]
[2Pac]
I keep my mind on my money, money on my mind
Finger on the trigger, nigga, hand on my nine
Smokin blunts a skunk, makin hoes of punks
And only underground funk bumpin outta my trunk
Live my life as a hustler, high till I die
Meetin bitches, gettin riches, miss me when lie
Picture me living out my life as a busta
I'd rather pop out a shot out my glock, and blast motherfuckers
I live that thug life baby I'm hopeless
Chokin off indo tryin to keep my focus
Don't let that bullshit worry me
Fuck the fame, I'm true to the game 'til they bury me
God gave me game so I'm hustlin
Pour out some liqour for my niggaz 2Pac is still strugglin
My niggga Breed knew the time
Whether it's ryhme or crime, nigga, I gotta get mine
[Chorus x6]
[MC Breed]
Now let me rush in through your mind, I'm balla is what I keep gettin
Everytime I pick up the mic and start spittin
The sidewalks of New York will start bumpin
Jumpin around, with the motherfuckin pound
And I'm down to the fullest, and breakin niggaz ass off proper
Did you right, that's right, cause I got you in my pocket again
The new jacks, the new jacks
Used to be my niggaz when I ran way back when
I boasted, and roasted, and coasted to the clinical
cause I'll do it again like precision
Cut the two lines in the division
Plus, what I add loose as flutes
It's gamin fo' sale like prostitutes
I never had love for hoes, to put it blunt
They want me in the back, but bitch I'm in the front
Don't front, and really I don't need a reply
Pull yourself together as you pass me by
I'm on a whole nother level, them hoes is left
I told you befo', keep ya pussy to yourself
Goodbye, some many niggaz lied to have
Funny what a motherfucker do for math
I got rats caught up in my everday actions
Point equal to your realest satisfaction
Buckin anybody that forbid mine
When will they realize, I'm set out to get mine
[Chorus x6]
Eternally thug nigga Hilfiger made by Tommy
so when I speak hope to reach my ? mommy
oh come to poppy
I love it when you sweat ? ? ? more peeps
until I come to wake no one can stop me
my bump and grind
coming through ya everytime
come get a blast of this thu passion
it'll blow your mind
hey throw up your ? ?
your shit around my back
it's a westside bang fucking hoes around the map
? get down with Tupac while I'm ? out ?
while they seduce my jimmy I'll
be screaming give me body
make then hoes scream my name out
give me my ? and don't cha ? ?
thug nigga ? ? ?
I'm at the freaking parade
I'm watching caramel bitches play
get with real niggaz bullshitting never get your pay
this is the dream of a black teen
? ? hoes cross-country like a greedy crack fiend
[Erotic D]
Live and direct from your favorite place
The Black Hole
And we go on and on
On and on, on and on
To the break of dawn
Eric Breed
(What up?)
Big ballin MC
And E
[Breed]
Erotic got the beats
Drive your ass psychotic
(That's right)
(Who there on the hook, bitch, look)
[VERSE 1]
Trip the light fantastic with me
And when I shoot through your city
Blaze up a fat-o, and let's go get busy
Breed do it to you everytime, hit you with the unexpected
Connect the beats and rhymes, and then perfect it
Now I'ma roll and you gon' roll with me
One Puff, the blunt I roll'll sho' get me, now you can hit me
With the Hen dog, a thin fog surround my scalp
And if I get to trickin, bitch, you on a salary cap
Big Baller Eric, got the suit, so I'ma wear it
But my muthafuckin dove is my one and only love
I cant't think without my drink, so nigga, pass it
Then take two big-ass pulls of the blunt and then amass it
Float with Breed through the galaxy
The cosmos belongs to me, it's my galery
And it don't matter we ballin in the highest degree
From F-l-i-n-t Breed gettin high as could be
I'm finna fly on weed
[CHORUS]
Floatin through the cosmos, rollin pimp shit, gettin high
Givin a fuck about those space-age hoes, these One Puff niggas know why
[VERSE 2]
Now I'ma paint a picture for ya (fascinatin)
Illustratin how we keep your ass giratin
And playa-hatas spectatin, waitin for the next collaboration I drop
It's the bomb with Erotic, you know it, you know it's all that
Fly and you can fly with me when I bounce to interplanetary limits
I'm in it to win it, fuck a gimmick
I got a secret, when the beat hit
Worldwide it's hard to hide cause I freak shit
A penny for your thoughts, a million plus for mine
You say I'm fallin off, but you ain't even known to get your own
Platinum-slappin em haters with my latest disc
Can you detect what's comin next from the flex of my wrist?
And the shit be off the hook soon as 'Rotic lay the mix
Get with Breed and hella weed and give me on my shit
This be with the hoeish shit, now go with shit that you be spittin
Try to write rhymes that sound like mine, but they ain't fittin
Who can do it like I do it? (What?) Maintain
Yo crew ain't like my crew (How that is?) Let me explain
(Aight)
[CHORUS]
[VERSE 3]
Imagine havin hydrophonic symphonic chronic and lettin it go
Niggas gettin lifted off the contact fo' sho'
Bitches screamin hoe-faded
They eyes beamin low, everybody on the flo' lookin fo' mo'
You at the show, feel the vibe we provide for ya
Hustlers and bitches, I be gettin live for ya
For my riches, fall into my flow like the Pacific
Ocean, sometime explicit, and get you open when I flip it
One Puff stuff, loot like you ain't seen
And a pocket full of green's how to fade, knawmean?
Dig it, can't a nigga hit em up like Breed
I got raps for days, so you can blaze up the weed
[2Pac yelling]
guess whos back
guess whos back muthafucka,big ballin ass muthafuckin breed
givin you what ya need,yea,smokin a gang of weed
hit them fools nigga
[MC Breed]
come one,come all
niggas gettin the beat down
retreat,peeps,feel the heat of the breed sound
collect facts,then attack like im suppose to
ya boys goin,aaahhhh,4 new niggas and them hoes too
its me,that nigga who aint never got caught
my mic is smooth as peppa,with a touch of salt
eat a book of the mark ass niggas i broke
cause big breed,can do ya why im smokin my dope,try to cope
catch up as this shit gets mental,this chronic got me workin my brain
i need a pencil.
so i can shake and change the style.but in the meanwhile
i maintain the crowd.
make moves to improve,so i can get a bigger rep
the trigger finger straped, i wanna see another nigga step
i play the cards,and you lost.mista gillagan
the mighty mad,bad writers comin real again
[2Pac yelling]
buck buck muthafucka.right at your muthafuckin ass.
this shit too strong for a muthafuckin vest.
so watch your chest and your dome.
leave breed the fuck alone.
we sendin niggas to the fuckin cemetary.
[breed]
they got me thinkin.sittin in the hot spot.
im straight up havin hard times wanting me a drop top.
and a phat knot.i aint tryin to hear that 5-0 shit.
im black,and i was born with a survival kit.
aint shit to spit,in the beer that im drinkin
i gotta get paid,i gotta get paid,and thats what a nigga be thinkin.
you sleep hoes,im lookin in peep holes.
in your 4head,run till your toes is numb,go test your broke head.
breed got niggas on your back once again punk.
told you aint no future in that shit,but you still front.
when will they relize,i got the feel again,
the mighty mad writers comin real again.
[2pac yelling]
buck buck bbbbbbbbbiiiiiinnnnnnnnggggg
thats the motherfuckin sound as we fuckin mothafuckas down.
yea nigga,run but you count out race this motherfuckin bullet
breed,pull it,they cant fade you boy.
[breed]
once mo,toe to toe,i dont think so
bird sales,and knockin niggas out like ridick boe.
you aint the play,you know the play well dont say shit.
get'em,and find your ass gettin off the pathement
wavin the shit, beggin niggas to just straight quit
but fuck that,a hard head can get a niggas ass kicked
i aint lettin up for none,son
im comin real again.
[2Pac yelling]
yea motherfucker how you wanna play this shit
we can go toe to toe,glock for glock,block for block
homie for muthafuckin homie.
but you muthafuckers gonna feel this nigga this time.
cause we aint comin back with that old bullshit.
its too many muthafuckin dead niggas,for me to be takin this here bullshit
thata why theres muthafuckers in the pin now nigga.
so pull or quit that bullshit. cause i dont wanna hear that muthafuckin crap.
comin real again nigga, thought i told you muthafuckers,i thought u knew
its the muthafuckin real shit muthafucka.100 percent athentic.
type of shit you get chronic out to,know what im sayin?
so do me a muthafuckin fava,and light another muthafuckin blunt.
you know what im sayin?a blunt muthafucka.philly sytle.
know what im sayin?chronic nigga.
im talkin bout layed out,played out,phat fuckin funk.
yea this that kinda shit we kickin in the 9 tre muthafucka.
so all you muthafuckin big ballin ass gangstas
you put your muthafuckin hand on ya gat.
and if the police roll up and say turn it down,you burn it down mufucka
cause we comin real again. 19 nigga 3,boy,real again,and grabbin steel
[VERSE 1: Passion]
I be the P-a-crooked letter-crooked letter
-i-o-n, and it don't get no' better
I be legit, like E-40 I'm sick wid it
East meets West, I make it 'southernplayalistic'
I be doin this without strugglin
You wanna be down like me like Brandy
I demand the phony MC to hand me
The mic, I spark it up, I do whatever
Wanna-be MC can get your style severed
By this terrorist lyricist, you will believe
Flinttown and Brooklyn, Passion and Mr. Breed
Number one big ballers, player-haters get deceased
Fuck peace and compromise, it's do-or-die in the East
You don't wanna see Def Squad, we dangerous like Too $hort
We burn mics like blunts and light the stage like Newports
See, lyrical-I believe in eye for an eye
And for them wack-ass niggas, see, I predict genocide
The unfuckwittable MC, my golden touch be king like Midas
The lyrical death certificate writer, my style's the tightest
Step up and play it hard, and get your whole style scarred
See, I be on Southern Avenue and Lindon Boulevard
[CHORUS]
Cause I do this without strugglin
When I bless this
Many wish to be as crisp
Never mind
Cleverness
Bitch [x2]
[VERSE 2: Chuck Nyce]
Young Chuck and I makin a come-up like throw up
No luck, I been fusin, waitin to blow the fuck up
Like napalm, back, legs and arms explode
Like pipe bombs, so ring the alarm, it's on from dust to dawn
Landmines and trip wire
Cover my entire front lawn and four rottweilers
Prowlin the premises, and hop the fence
And get that ass crucified like Jesus, believe it
I stays weeded and smokin MC's like seedless sativa
Battle to travel through valleys of lost
and dead MC's and never got defeated
MC's retreated once the battlefields got heated
My projectile heat-seeking missiles
Check it, I'm settin it off and representin these Flint niggas
Street gorillas, drug dealers, sushi dinners
Sippin quart, I'm blue with a twisted lemon
Weed, twisted swishers, we split it and fill it
We fill it, lick it, then seal it
Then lift it to your lip and ah - feel the effect
[CHORUS]
[VERSE 3: MC Breed]
Now this is bein done for you non-believers
I'm bringin bats, bitch, machetes, gats and cleavers
Now which one of y'all wanna come see the B-r-double
I'm ridin, nigga, and you can run and ask T-Double
I run sport like Berry, but big balls like Jerry
And it's gon' take more than phone calls, nigga, to scare me
My infrared got a date with your head
And my beat'll getcha after I fill my clip with lead
Bloodshed ain't shit to me, most of this shit is meant to be
In an infested society, physically and mentally
Follow through with basic instinct, nothin superstitious
Many await your downfall, so clown all bitches
I got my riches from the streets
So when it comes to streets I get my eats, props to my peeps
[CHORUS]
[VERSE 4: Jamal]
Look, I beez Mally G the villain
Kill your whole scene with the guillotine shotie
Aim it at your body
Look, I spit the lead till your bodyparts spread
Now Passion got it, the red's dotted, spotted on your head
Stand still, see the blood spill
I ain't bullshittin, muthafucka, on the reals
Run it, I got the gat, I'm about to gun it
Son, it don't matter, I'm leavin your crew clueless like 'Whodunnit?'
Fuck it, got me on some iller shit
Bestow upon you the power to move, so I can blast, kill you, bitch
Ask which ass MC's (fuck you trick-fleas)
Claimin you real, that shit came with your deal
I speak from the heart, freak tracks apart
With insane lyricism - off the ism
-atic auto-tactic the show flows
Illadelphiadic, who the fuck want the static?
[Night & Day]
I ain't much too worried about the past
(Past)
Worried about the past
(Yeah
That's the way I like it
Laid back, just like that
Now what that music feel like?)
I ain't much too worried about the past
Ain't too much worried
Worried about the past
Ain't too much worried 'bout the past
I ain't much too worried about the past
Ain't too much worried
Worried about the past
Ain't too much worried 'bout the past
[VERSE 1]
Growin up in Flint I went to [Name] Elementary
A little fat kid who ain't have shit, lived on [Name] Street
Don't get me wrong, cause we was far from po' though
But up-to-date tennis shoes was far from affordable
A runaway, well, that describes me best
Cause if things ain't go my way, it was time to jet
I ran back and forth from my mom's to my pop's house
And by the 9th grade I was a high school drop-out
15 and my life done went bad
By this time I was livin with my dad
Not thinkin 'bout what's goin on in life
And if I have to carry a gun or a knife
Will I have to use it, if so, then it's on
I never had a girlfriend to call my own
So what I'm seein now I'm really hopin it'll last
But if not - hah, I ain't too much worried 'bout the past
[Night & Day]
I ain't much too worried about the past
Ain't too much worried
Worried about the past
Ain't too much worried 'bout the past
I ain't much too worried about the past
Ain't too much worried
Worried about the past
Ain't too much worried 'bout the past
[VERSE 2]
Now my old man, yo, he doesn't say much
He works every day and fiddle-faddle with his truck
And when I went to school he was home in the bed
But when I came home, he was up gettin fed
Now people, don't trip, see, my pops never hang
But I can tell you this: that he is up on the game
Seven in the morning, I'm dressed in my Levi's
Headed for school with my nigga ??? T-R'y
Reached into the room and got my dollar off the dresser
Knowin when I get to school I get ganked for the rest of it
Huh, I saw an apple on the table, had to get me one
Thew on my ??? hat, the first kid in Flint with one
Me and T-Ray walkin to [Name]
All I'm thinkin about is skippin, that's what I'll probably do
But it really don't matter, nowadays it won't last
I ain't too much worried 'bout the past
[Night & Day]
I ain't much too worried about the past
Ain't too much worried
Worried about the past
Ain't too much worried 'bout the past
(I ain't too much worried 'bout the past)
I ain't much too worried about the past
Ain't too much worried
Worried about the past
Ain't too much worried 'bout the past
[VERSE 3]
So now I got a baby and a baby on the way
As long as me and both of the moms are cool, I'll never have to pay
It's not what I bargained for, but it's what I've bought
And if I have to pay child support, I'd be my fault
But I ain't the type to get uptight and fighting things
I'm tryin to be like Spike and 'do the right thing'
I'm never ridin dirty nor negotiatin kilos
Me and Pop Breed and Al Capone, we ride in trio
Coolin in the Cherokee, them girls hollerin "Eric Breed"
Puffin up on the dank, cause I ain't messin with no generic weed
I'm in the world, I'm tryin to make a livin, son
We need money, and ain't nobody givin none
My own boss, I'm workin at my j-o-b
No more kids and no more women playin me
And as long as I keep my mind on straight, I'm gon' last
I ain't too much worried 'bout the past
[Night & Day]
I ain't much too worried about the past
Ain't too much worried
Worried about the past
(Huh, nah...)
Ain't too much worried 'bout the past
(I ain't too much worried 'bout the past)
I ain't much too worried about the past
Ain't too much worried
Worried about the past
Ain't too much worried 'bout the past
(I ain't too much worried 'bout the past)
[Night & Day continue in the background until end]
[OUTRO: MC Breed]
Past tense...
I ain't too much worried 'bout the past
Past tense, nonsense
Past tense, nonsense
Past tense...
I ain't too much worried 'bout the past
You still gon' listen to this song
In '93?
In '94?
In '95...
I'll have somethin new
But right now I want you to enjoy this
Cause in '95 - believe me
Your boy Breed, I ain't too much worried 'bout the past
Little child
Runnin' wild
Watch a while
You see he never smiles
Broken home
Father gone
Mama tired
So he's all alone
Kind of sad
Kind of mad
Ghetto child
Thinkin' he's been had
In the back of his mind he's sayin'
Didn't have to be here
You didn't have to love for me
While I was just a nothin' child
Why couldn't they just let me be
Let me be, let me be, let me be
One room shack
On the alley-back
Control, I'm told
From across the track
Where is the mayor
Who'll make all things fair
He lives outside
Our polluted air
And I didn't have to be here
You didn't have to love for me
While I was just a nothin' child
Why couldn't they just let me be
Let me be, let me be, let me be
I got a jones
Runnin' through ma' bones
I'm sorry son
All your money's gone
Painful rip
In my upper hip
I guess it's time
To take another trip
Don't care what nobody say
I got to take the pain away
It's getting worser day by day
And all my life has been this way
Can't reason with the pusherman
Finance is all that he understands
'You junkie, mama cries, you know'
Would rip her, but I love her so
![MC Breed Tribute - Ain't No Future in Yo' Frontin' Instrumental [ FL Studio Remake ]](http://web.archive.org./web/20131111182332im_/http://i.ytimg.com/vi/kMW7lqhDDMQ/default.jpg "MC Breed Tribute - Ain't No Future in Yo' Frontin' Instrumental [ FL Studio Remake ]")
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![MC Breed - Ain't No Future In Yo' Frontin' ( Dirty ) [ HQ ] + Lyrics !](http://web.archive.org./web/20131111182332im_/http://i.ytimg.com/vi/rgBTOkDPKUQ/default.jpg "MC Breed - Ain't No Future In Yo' Frontin' ( Dirty ) [ HQ ] + Lyrics !")
