Words To:
Notorious Big
Things Done Changed
Submitter:
Anonymous
Corrections: 0
Last View:
21 H, 24 M, 56 Secs
Related Lyrics:
Juicy
Big Poppa
Who Shot Ya
Everyday Struggle
Another
Going Back To Cali
Machine Gun Funk
Mo Money Mo Problems
One More Chance
Playa Hater
More Notorious Big -->
|
Notorious Big
» Things Done Changed
[Verse One:]
Remember back in the days, when niggaz had waves
Gazelle shades, and corn braids
Pitchin pennies, honies had the high top jellies
Shootin skelly, motherf**kers was all friendly
Loungin at the barbeques, drinkin brews
with the neighborhood crews, hangin on the avenues
Turn your pagers, to nineteen ninety three
Niggaz is gettin smoked G, believe me
Talk slick, you get your neck slit quick
Cause real street niggaz ain't havin that sh*t
Totin techs for rep, smokin blunts in the project
hallways, shootin dice all day
Wait for niggaz to step up on some fightin sh*t
We get hype and sh*t and start lifin sh*t
So step away with your fist fight ways
Motherf**ker this ain't back in the days, but you don't hear me though
[Verse Two:]
No more cocoa leave-io, one two three
One two three, all of this to me, is a mystery
I hear you motherf**kers talk about it
But I stay seein bodies with the motherf**kin chalk around it
And I'm down with the sh*t too
For the stupid motherf**kers wanna try to use Kung-Fu
Instead of a Mac-10 he tried scrappin
Slugs in his back and, that's what the f**k happens
when you sleep on the street
Little motherf**kers with heat, want ta leave a nigga six feet deep
And we comin to the wake
To make sure the cryin and commotion ain't a motherf**kin fake
Back in the days, our parents used to take care of us
Look at em now, they even f**kin scared of us
Callin the city for help because they can't maintain
Damn, sh*t done changed
http://www.rare-lyrics.com
[Verse Three:]
If I wasn't in the rap game
I'd probably have a key knee deep in the crack game
Because the streets is a short stop
Either you're slingin crack rock or you got a wicked jumpshot
sh*t, it's hard being young from the slums
eatin five cent gums not knowin where your meals comin from
And now the sh*t's gettin crazier and major
Kids younger than me, they got the Sky grand Pagers
Goin outta town, blowin up
Six months later all the dead bodies showin up
It make me wanna grab the nine and the shottie
But I gotta go identify the body
Damn, what happened to the summertime cookouts?
Everytime I turn around a nigga gettin took out
sh*t, my momma got cancer in her breast
Don't ask me why I'm motherf**kin stressed, things done changed
|
|
Lyrics
Edit
Discussion
Print
Copy
Link
