Fabolous - The Young OG Project Lyrics
Lituation
Yeah... {"money, money, chain, situation"}
{"Money, money, chain, situation"}
Let's get it
[Chorus:]
My current situation a lituation
My current situation a lituation
Don't keep that money waitin', it get impatient
You niggas get to hatin', you get ovations
Bottles on the way, lituation
Models in the face, lituation
When I come around it goes down
{"Money, money, chain, situation"}
Yeah, it's a movie, get your Goobers, nigga
Yeah, it gets deep, get ya scuba, nigga
Uhh, I got the swipers in the gun shop
Yeah, I got the shooters in the uber nigga
Woo! Everything brand new, my nigga
Yeah, Lord Jamar, Grand Puba nigga
Uhh, they callin' me Fidel Castro/cash flow
Yeah, and the link come from Cuba, nigga
Woo! Team plastic like the ass shots
Plastic Glock 9 get ya ass shot
Dream Team, gold chain, match watch
And the bad bitches be the mascot
Yeah, got your BM in my BM nigga
Yeah, she got (Taken), word to Liam nigga
Ha! We ain't gotta be a hundred deep (huh)
I'd rather 10 lions than a hundred sheep (huh)
[Chorus]
{"Money, money, chain, situation"}
Yeah, this shit different, nigga
Yeah, I can't explain it's just different, nigga
Yeah, this is hood gettin' money rap
Yeah, this a million on a Giffy, nigga
Woo! This is stuntin' at the baby shower
Yeah, and it all came from baby powder
I buy her Rosé, you buy your lady flowers
Special thanks goes to the haze and sour
Respect brought the money than it gave me power
But sneak dissin' always been a fav of cowards
Aww, you don't wanna take it there
Where I'm from all they do is take it there
I came from no space wasn't safe
Now it's like no space in a safe
I do it (B.I.G) and light skin my new (Faith)
And we skip to my lou in that new Wraith, ahh!
[Chorus]
When I come around it goes down [3X]
Ay.. it goes down [2X]
...Lituation [3X]
When I come around it's a lituation
Writer: ALBERTO MORENO, MAURO LA LUCE, DWIGHT BRANDON, JOHN DAVID JACKSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
We Good
[Rich Homie Quan:]
We good, we good
Fab, R-H-Q
[Chorus - Rich Homie Quan:]
Been a couple years since a nigga got put on
Say ya boy starvin', he outta here, he gone
There ain't much that you can do that I can't do for me
I already got my team
I tell 'em we good, we good, we good, we good
All of my niggas from the hood
I tell 'em we good, we good, we good, we good
We good, we good, we good
Ay, you wasn't there when we needed your help so we good (so we good)
They wouldn't do it, I did it myself now we good (now we good)
Sorry my nigga can't buy what you sellin', we good (sorry, my nigga)
I heard that my ex askin' 'bout me, just tell her we good
Uhh, pourin' some D'usse inside of my cup and some OJ inside a B-wood
Uhh, blowin' on hookah, some good girls is here but I swear they not here to be good
Uhh, that boy from Brooklyn, they want what he cookin', they heard that his recipe good
Uhh, horoscope say that we bad for each other, but the sex'll be good
Get with the Scorpio I'm gettin' more Fritos, they gettin' chips but I'm gettin' Doritos
'Bout to get more Cheetos, I get you wet have you bustin' like torpedoes
You came three times you trying to four-peat though?
She said "We good, nigga you try to kill me?", "I'm tryin' to make sure you good, do you feel me?"
Knock on that nigga and tell him you good, when he said "Come over" tell him you would
But see the way that my shit is set up, you in the bed and you cannot get up
Focus on you homie, get your bread up, things will get easier keep your head up
She with the game now she throw the set up and she f*ckin' me good and she make the bed up
So we good, we good
[Chorus]
We good on you niggas, don't gotta wish cause we would on you niggas (huh)
Back in the day we was good little niggas (huh) y'all must of thought that we wouldn't get bigger (what?!)
Y'all must of thought that we wouldn't get money (heh) shit we a good seven figures
Give us a shot and we pullin' the trigger and pull up on niggas like skrrt!
Pull up with bitches like her, full of chinchilla the fur, bulletproof everything sir
You know them haters be tryin' to take shots (bow!) they on the bench and they tryin' to take spots (bow!)
Them niggas ice cold that you tryin' to make hot (huh) them bitches ain't real when you find 'em they thots (huh)
The feeling, we good on that fake shit (yeah) we out here tryin' to stay far from it
We know 'bout the bottom, we all from it, we in the hood but you ball from it
Did it my way not like y'all done it then I just wait and Lacoste them
I did it flyer while y'all bummin' (woo!) this shit ain't hard for me (easy)
Too many flavors to do on these haters but do me a favor don't do me no favors
We good, we good
[Chorus]
Writer: DARIUS JOSEPH BARNES, DEQUANTES DEVONTAY LAMAR, JOHN JACKSON
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
All Good
[Biggie sample:]
"Yeah, this album is dedicated to all the teachers
who told me I'd never amount to nothing
For all the people who lived above the buildings
that I was hustling from that called the police on me
It's all good, baby baby!
Cause I went from negative to positive and it's all"
[Chorus:]
(Good Times) like J.J. and them
It was, (G.O.O.D. Music) like Kanye and them
It was, (Goodfellas) like Henry and them
But nowadays good girls, there ain't too many of them
(So if you a good girl, let me see your hands)
(Let these niggas know, every chance that you can)
(If you got that good good shorty, please raise your hand)
(You know its all good, she just need a good man)
If you smokin' good good, nigga pass it to your man
Cause when you at your lowest gettin' higher is the plan
Got somethin' in my cup, feel good to be the man
And if it's good money, tell 'em put it in my hand
I'm talkin' good dudes, good vibes and some good food
Smokin' good with a playlist full of good grooves
You know the shit you like to hear, like good news
A couple Meagan Goods came through, made the hood move
And slow motion for me
She be frontin' like "Why all this commotion for me?"
They talk about her shit, like they doing promotion for it
But she single, cause they never show devotion for it
She ain't never act too good for a nigga
But she losing faith, she don't see no good in these niggas
She like why I get treated bad, but be good to a nigga
You do bad, you lose, too bad, good for you nigga
It was
[Chorus]
She went (Cee-Lo) with my Goodie Mob, yellin' out I fall better
Life is a gamble, I was good luck for the betters
Take a risk nigga, you gotta shoot to miss nigga
Time is golden like that Rollie on your wrist nigga
I hate when they gets figures then disfigured
And when niggas get salty, thinkin' that shits sugar
Huh, that's when good goes bad
That's when niggas who just came home, could go back
So let's keep the vibe right, keep the energy good
Them boys would sit you down player like a injury would
Then my niggas f*ck with me before the Industry would
Ridin' 'til the wheels fall off and the engine no good
It was
[Chorus]
Writer: KASSEEM DEAN, DETRIC JAMAL JACKSON, JOHN DAVID JACKSON, JAVON S. REYNOLDS, SIDNEY F. REYNOLDS, AUBREY T. JOHNSON, HENRY EDWARD ZANT, AUBREY DRAKE GRAHAM, CLIFFORD J. HARRIS, NOAH JAMES SHEBIB, AVERY JEROME WILLIAM CHAMBLISS, MATTHEW JEHU SAMUELS
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Memory Lane Music Group (Foreign), Peermusic Publishing
You Made Me
[Fabolous & Tish Hyman:]
I think we all try to be good people.
But it's just thing you go through that make you who you are
Nigga this is how you made me
(This is how you, this is how you, this is how you made me)
Nigga this is how you made me
(This is how you, this is how you, this is how you made me)
[Hook - Fabolous (Tish Hyman):]
Hol' up
Last time I trust a nigga he betrayed me
Last time I trust a bitch, she played me
Pardon me if I've been on one lately
Yeah, this is how you niggas made me
(This is how you, this is how you, this is how you made me)
This is how you made me [x4]
[Fabolous:]
Thinking 'bout my old girlfriend, lil mama played me
Left me for some light skin Kev with a Mercedes
Back then I didn't have no whip, had to upgrade me
Now I got those white boy M's, she ain't as shady
Well karma is a bitch baby
Oh you wasn't tryna chill hoes? (Remember that?)
One day karma kicks you in the ass
And I hope she wearing steel toes
Tried to have my head all twisted, won't let 'em braid me
I just gotta be who I be, don't let it jade me
Life gave me lemons, it's time to lemonade me
Music to my ears, the lies just serenade me
And what they done to me, I done it to the next
What goes around is coming to you next
I dress like I'ma run into my ex
And every time I run into her flex, uh
[Hook]
[Fabolous:]
Your boy tried to f*ck me over, thought we was homies
Guess he was a h-o-e when I say hoemies
Niggas get some money then act like they don't know me
Got a new phone, cut off the old phonies
They ain't never pick up for me when I used to call
And they ain't never pass the 'roc when they used to ball
And they ain't never help me up when I used to fall
Kept tryna do it big, f*ck gettin' used to small
After the success it's like yes they used to know me
Now it ain't no 'Neneh nigga, I got Naomi
Shoulda paid attention before you nigga owe me
Since you down there on your knees, go ahead and blow me
Suck a dick, tell a hater suck a dick
Just a hood nigga that hit a f*ckin' lick
I keep my head up and I ain't never duckin' shit
I'm self made, I don't owe a mother f*cker shit, boi
[Hook]
[Tish Hyman:]
This is how you made me
Niggas say I'm actin' crazy
But this is how you made me
So don't try to change me
But nigga this is how you made me
Nigga this is how you made me
Nigga this is how you made me, nigga
This is how ya, this how ya made me nigga [x4]
Writer: JOHN JACKSON, TED MILLS, JESSE WOODARD IV, WILLIAM P NEALE, DIANE W BERNSTEIN
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
She Wildin
[Hook - Chris Brown:]
Ooh she wildin', wildin'
She do her thang, thang [x4]
She just wanna shake something
Girl that ass gon' make money
Ooh she wildin', wildin'
She do her thang, thang
Said she like it raw, beat that pussy up
You ain't never f*ck a thug
You gon' fall in in love
A bottle of that liquid courage on the way now
All my ladies taking shots, I know that they down
[Fabolous:]
I said ooh, she wildin' wildin', she do her thang thang
Lames get shot down, she do a bang bang
She attract rappers and the ones who do the same thang
Playas in the league and dope boys who slang thangs
All tryna pull up on her, all she do is lane change
They be all in the air, 100 be the main thing
Tryna lock her down, she ain't with the Chain Gang
Wanna make her wifey, but no name change
She be on that Brikin to Chanel type of name change
She be stuntin', she be on her Jackie Chan thang
Big chain Rollie in the sky, let your thang swang
Mike with the iced out, Mike plain Jane
Either way you know what time it is, gotta maintain
Mr. Chows' girl, not a PF Chang thang
Whole crew bad, it's a pretty gang thang
Long hair, don't care, let it hang thang
[Hook]
[Fabolous:]
I said ooh, she pop a Molly and do her thang thang
Take the grapefruit and do that brain thang
Man, that ruby red, that shit done changed things
I'm about to bust, but before I go bang bang
Hold up, she climb up on it like she King Kong
Back and forth on that table, like she ping pong
She tell me play the dirty version, not the clean song
She tell me f*ck her in the dark, with my bling on
And she do this thing to me, she know I like
She need no one to check, she know that mic
She like when Spider-Man climb up them walls
She be so wet, feel like you in The Falls
She like Niagara, man f*ck your Viagra
She make you cum fast and f*ck up your swagger
She make you come back, like that boomerrang
Ooh she be wildin' when she do her thang
When she do her thang
When she do her thang
When she do her thang
Ooh she be wildin', when she do her thang
[Hook]
Writer: CHRIS JUSTICE, CHRISTOPHER MAURICE BROWN, EUGENE O. GRAY, JABARI JONES, JAVON S. REYNOLDS, JOHN DAVID JACKSON, LAMONT PORTER, LAMONT J. PORTER, MICHAEL EPPS, NASIR JONES, SIDNEY F. REYNOLDS
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, THE ROYALTY NETWORK INC., BMG Rights Management
Ball Drop
[Intro:]
Well in just about 15 seconds from now, it'll be 1990. We're gathered down below as we say goodbye to 1989. The ball is moving, the crowd sees it, you can hear 'em. Oh can you ever hear 'em. They know when it hits the bottom it'll be 1990; goodbye to the 80s
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!
Happy new year!
[Fabolous (French Montana):]
Whoa, whoa, whoa [x7]
(Haan, change is good for everybody)
Montana, Dre fitted it, haan)
[Bridge - French Montana:]
When that hate don't work they start telling lies
Baby work, go on bust it wide
It's that new money, let the drugs dry
I cut my bitch off when the ball drop
[Hook - French Montana (Fabolous):]
Haan
(Whoa whoa whoa) [x4]
I just don't know why
[Post-Hook - Fabolous (French Montana):]
Hating hoes ain't happy
And happy hoes ain't hatin'
Better check the situation
I could fix your situation
Whoa whoa whoa [x2]
I cut them bitches off when the ball drop
New year, new money, then the call dropped
(New year, new money, let them drugs drop
Cut them niggas off when the ball drop
Cause them real niggas ain't haters
And them hatin' niggas ain't real
And baby I could help your situation
No top smokin' medication)
[Verse 1 - Fabolous:]
This the new year resolution
We gotta be the winners cause the rest is losin'
I told em get money, that's the best solution
When you do, wear your rocket like you rest in Houston
When niggas throw my style I ain't stressed to boostin'
It's time to make more money, less excuses
My old bitch on death row, it's time for execution
My new bitch is bad ass, she the best since Boosie
[Hook]
[Verse 2 - French Montana:]
12 o' clock then the call dropped
Cut them niggas off when the ball drops
Young boy, hard head in the soft top
Cause when them shots ain't ringin', you can't call shots
Mix some white and brown on the corner strap
Might be the next Mike Brown where you rollin' at
V with hundred on the Lincoln
3 quarter mink blew the top off Lincoln, God
Niggas scared to play it like jail or Richard Mellor
I hope I never Tom Heller, God
Scramble like a dope fiend (dope fiend)
Keep your head up like your nose bleedin'
My right hand got 30 on his left arm
On that left lane nigga, what a bitch for?
I just don't know why
[Bridge]
[Hook]
[Post-Hook]
[Verse 3 - Fabolous:]
Cuttin' off hoes when the ball drop
Ridin' with my woes til' the casket drop
Quiet 'fore you suckas hear a pin drop
I buy this mother f*cker like the price drop
Shawty bag it up, let that ass drop
Mommy killin' em, tat tear drop
Bitch I'm on fire, need to stop drop
Nigga this the flow that got your artist dropped
Heard he was a rat, heard he done dropped
Hit em in the head, watch the body drop
Dollars coming down like rain drops
New year, new money, nigga ball drop
[Hook]
Writer: Jared Evans, John Jackson, Karim Kharbouch, Michael Hernandez, Ozan Yildirim
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Bish Bounce
[Hook:]
Let these niggas know your worth
Ain't no discounts
They ain't got it better get it
Tell a bitch bounce
All dimes see a nine point that bitch out
She get ejected and corrected like a miscount
Bitch bounce
Had to tell that bitch bounce
Vinylz on the track and that bitch bounce
Bitch bounce
Had to tell that bitch bounce
Ass like that make that bitch bounce
You should make more moves and make less announcements
Ain't with that talking bitch save that for counseling
Looked in here brown skin just keep that shit bouncin?
All of these boys wit me bring large amounts in
All of these gold chains weigh 36 ounces
All of this foreign shit can't even pronounce it
Is it g-vin-chi or is it Givenchy
T- seater seats and now its a givaungy?
Top off that wrangler
You know me no stranger
Hang like a dangler, bitch look like Topanga
That boy meet world I swear you are in danger
Its time to score I don't choke I'm no strangler
I ball
I'm ballin' my nigga
Ball on these bitches
Thats word to scott digga
Gimme my shot and I'm squeezing my trigga
My homies bust two and thats word to Rah Digga
[Hook]
[Bridge:]
Bounce up and down, need no trembling
Made it slow down, no promethazine
Run me my money, no hesitance
You no my work need no resume
Bounce
Look, ain't go to say that I flex check my biceps
In your bitch mouth like I'm gossip
That boy be so fresh to death burry me in my closet
Don't make excuse make deposit
Ain't even suppose to be here boy I come from the projects
Shawty just f*ck with my progress
I swear I came here with nothing, all this shit is profit
Should look at me like a prophet
And when these niggas throw subs It just confirm my gangsta
Scared to say my name now ain't cha
No disrespect we just on different sides of the wave
I'm providing the wave you just riding the wave, bounce
[Hook]
[Bridge]
Writer: ADAM KING FEENEY, ANDERSON HERNANDEZ, C. HANSEN, JOHN JACKSON, MATTHEW SAMUELS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC.
Rap and Sex
Where you at?
You know I'm at the studio man, what you doing, you gon' come through?
Yeah I'mma come through. I might rock the mic too
Haha, I bet
[Pre-Hook:]
I just got the crib with the studio
You could say I live at the studio
Shawty come and give at the studio
[Hook x5:]
All I do is rap and sex
Niggas see how I was flowin' on my last cassette
(At the studio)
Got a condo with nothin' but condoms in it
Same place where the rhymes were invented
So all I do is rap and sex, imagine how I stroke
See how I was flowin' on my last cassette
Shawty came through just to hear the mixtape (Soul Tape)
Ended up starring in a sex tape
With a player from New York no Nicks tape (swish)
Might need your bitch for my next day
I come upstairs then I come get them drawers
Come back downstairs then I come up with bars
Shit feels so good it might come out tomorrow
Beat that shit up, she might come out with scars
I do not lie, I been the truth
If I'm in her box, I say that I'm in the booth
Comin' up with the headlines
That's off the top of the head (whoa, whoa)
Heard she nasty on the mic
Go for the sloppiest head (whoa, whoa)
Then she gon' bust that thing wide
I'ma just let that thing ride (whoa, whoa)
[Pre-Hook]
[Hook]
No slow jams just street nigga rap
Want R&B smooth, get an R&B dude
Got a Range and a Benz, I make R&B moves
But I can call Trey, you in an R&B mood?
And get him to the studio
Like "wassup this Fab
Got a bad bitch with me and she up for grabs"
Talkin' bout "ask him what's up with this collab?"
And she waitin' at the studio
Sign on the door that say "No hatin' at the studio"
And I always keep it playa at the studio
Every time she ask I say I'm at the studio
Layin' somethin' down
See how I was snappin' on my last shit
Hard start off with the soft flow
Then switch it up to some fat shit
(Feel me?)
Nigga don't make me go [?] your bitch
I love this shit but I don't love your bitch
Rap, sex [x2]
All I do is Rap & sex [x3]
Pussy got me screaming, Meek Mill flow (Ho!)
Spray it like Mase (aha), speak real slow
You with a boss one, Rick Ross grunt (Huh!)
Nasty like Nas, one mic [?] (all I need is one mic)
Best I ever had (Crazy), word to Drake
Bustin' off the grill [?] Chiraq, murder rate (Let's get it!)
Kiss on it (Heh), excuse my French (Haan)
Hit the studio, rap and sex
[Pre-Hook]
[Hook]
Writer: CHARLES DUMAZER, JOHN JACKSON, JONATHAN BURKS, SHAWN CARTER, TIMOTHY MOSLEY
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Gone For The Winter
[Verse 1 - Velous:]
Blunts full of smoke, clips in the ashtray
Reminiscing on our past days
Back before a nigga went cold
Back before a nigga sold his soul
The grass is way greener, on the other side
The cash is way greener, over here where I reside
Soon as the summer come around I'm gon' make sure you see me
Said I'ma make sure you see me
But for now
[Hook - Velous x2:]
Shouldn't you be
Gone
Gone for the winter
Gone for the winter
[Bridge - Velous x2:]
Ain't that what the words do
(The summers ours and the winter too)
They told me love don'y cost a thing
Bitch I'm heading to the bank
(That's that's that's just what it feels like)
Hit the scene sippin' lean, Give a f*ck 'bout what you
[Verse 2 - Fabolous:]
Straight up shit is real and any day could be your last in the jungle
My ears to the streets, I hear your ass when you mumble
They say you can't do it cause the last nigga fumble
As soon as you make it out, you get asked to be humble, waah
Head high, middle finger higher
My youngin' don't rap but that little nigga fire
Like Ray Allen in game 6, when James missed
Then Bosh tapped it to him
You know what had happened to 'em, swish
It's all about a swish
Know a nigga who would, you ain't even gotta wish
It's more in the sea and I done had a lot of fish
How she act when you ain't up will tell a lot about a bitch
Cause eagles don't fly with pigeons, they way higher
All wings flap but you gotta stay flyer
Niggas broke as a joke, sitting laughin' together
I started cheesin' after I turned my craft into chedder
I ran from the worst, chasing after the better
Life is a bitch, I knew right after I met her
So what you have-nots know about having knots?
Love for a hater only thing I haven't got
[Hook x2]
[Bridge x2]
[Verse 3 - Fabolous:]
You know I get around baby, that's just how the life be
I like a couple towns but you know my city wifey
And I ain't spent a month at home, still be in my comfort zone
F*ck asking for a seat, you gotta come for thrones
Kings don't speak English we speak Kinglish
I scoop a chick from Queensbridge, she coming back a Queen bitch
Think big and Kim, not think bigger than them
Everybody wanna shine, gotta give these niggas a gym
Never stressed of lil' things, like a hater
That's something that comes when you eatin', like a waiter
Live from the 718
It's the kid that always get the shoes early, I never run late
You see I big up the flows, everyword is capital
I killed all them hoes, I'm the murder capital
I'm the name they bring up that they think their bird is flappin' to
You the name that usually comes behind, "word what happened to"
Hah, y'all old washed niggas
Was the man now your all no washed nigga
That's why I'm on one like old Goerge Wash nigga
If t's one they gotta chse it like John Walsh nigga
I'm gone
If you [?] that you not getting somebody's [?]
Them say ooh God bless no man never curse
Them say love yourself or you can't love nobody at all
If you ain't a hater, put your hands in the air right now
[Verse 1 - Fabolous]
[Verse 4 - Fabolous:]
Represent, represent
Came through in '98, and I've been reppin' since
These cats ain't real, just found out they leapard print
Cause they always talk shit then ask you for peppermints
Well, I can smell a hate on your breath
And I'm all out of tic tacs
All I got is clic clac
Put it to your mouth just like Cutti did to Anthony
I tried to a friend mother f*cker, you under handed me
Lucky this is personal and God got a plan for me
Cause I handle my business, never let my business handle me
Saying your name could do more for you than it can for me
You give niggas and they forget your philanthropy
You don't have a penny till your name Anfernee
Don't ever bite the hand that feed you and then stick out your hand for me
We don't base, we throw niggas in the truck for real
Chase you out the hood, make you live with uncle Phil
Champagne every night, I done drunk a mil
Yeah, now that's money wasted
But now it's kinda hard for me to buy Ace
'Specially when I just seen Hov buy Ace
Moves, time to make moves
No more jab steps, those is fake moves
Gotta make it happen, no time for what may work
My plan B's another way to make my plan A work
I dot the job myself and I'm still boss
You was in a win-win and you still lost
From young OG to young o genius
This is vintage shit, I don't think you young hoes seen this
I funeral shit, y'all shoulda brung more Kleenex
Even my junior ballin, yeah my sun so phoenix
Threw stones in the cross, call my young o Jesus
Foreign car work, hope you brung your visas, nigga
I tossed pies, flung those pizzas
My lady a work of art, call her a young Mo Lisa
Writer: VELOUS, ANDERSON HERNANDEZ, JAHAAN SWEET, JOHN JACKSON, LEE ERWIN, TED CREECH, TERRELL ROBERTS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., CARLIN AMERICA INC
Cinnamon Apple
[Hook x2:]
My cinnamon apple, you know you did me wrong
My cinnamon apple, said you know you did me wrong
Look I wanna take y'all back to 7th grade, middle school
Skinny kid that everybody knew
I was a lil' cool
Had my intial ring, gold chain, my lil' jewels
What was more than most had so I never got ridiculed
This was '89, matter fact it was '90
Crack was already huge, the streets start getting grimey
But I wasn't in that world then
I'm 13, all I'm thinkin' bout is Nike's, basketball and my girlfriend
Yeah, who at the time was Tia Williams
And she had no idea that one day I would see a million
This is a teengae love, few months but we was buildin'
She was grown, I was the man but we was children
She had ass though, I mean for her age or whatever
She wore my ring some times like we engaged or whatever
And this the "No, you hang up first" dial tone era
Your mom's pick up and say "Hang up my house phone" era
And I hated that, how you gon' scream in my baby ear
That pretty lil' brown skin girl with the baby hair
As we was going steady, my sex drive was so Andretti
She a virgin but I feel like it's time, I know she ready
He ain't got much experience, but she don't know that
That boy's chance is coming up, I hope he don't blow that
I'm waiting for the opportunity, mama at work
Start with a kiss, then I'm in her shirt, next I'm in her skirt
You know that always heard that the first time gonna hurt
That's what she heard from her cousin, 'lotta told her it doesn't
And so to me, it's just a matter of time
That Tia gon' give it up to me and that'll be mine
But one day I was absent, I came back to school
Learned that, I left the man but I came back the fool
They said that "Tia did some bullshit, I mean did y'all speak?"
She cut school, lost her virginity, some kid named Khalif
An I'm stuck... Like what the f*ck?
I ain't hear that my girl did what?
But had to act like I ain't care
Felt like I wanted to cry, but nah I ain't tear
That first time I learned that trust ain't a must if I ain't there
And of course we broke up, she moved on, I did the same
I ended up with some next girl, forget her name
Which probably isn't right, cause we used to get along
But I remember Tia, cause she did me wrong
[Hook]
[Kevin Hart:]
And you gon' leave me, for some f*ckin nigga? Huh?! I thought you loved me.
You was supposed to be my cinnamon apple. my cinnamon apple!
Baby you gon' leave me for some nigga! Huh for some nigga!
Get out of the car bitch. You gon' leave me?! You grimey son
Writer: JOHN JACKSON, DARIUS BARNES
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights Management
Young OG II
Troubled tears, they'll land you there
Open your eyes it's all a disguise
The fear that you feel, is not real, not real
The fear that you feel, is not real, no
Similar sky, similar ties
But I know all about you, I do
Look, the saddest story comes from those who once had the glory
Had the foreigns, diamond watches and the baddest shorties
Now they in their latter 40s, bunch of kids, scattered shorties
No respect from the neglect, they call they daddy Corey
I'm from a different cloth, that ain't the pattern for me
There's levels to this shit, it's different categories
Can't be like them niggas out here, looking fat and gordie
They ain't never won no rings, but be mad at Horry
Talkin bout, "Man that nigga don't deserve that shit"
Like "I was really in these streets, I used to serve that shit"
We started from the bottom, had to topsy-turn that shit
Get it while the gettins' good, after that preserve that shit
My ex texted me last night, but I curve that shit
Coulda end up hitting it, be too late to swerve that shit
That's a young mistake, Lord knows I made me some
I love getting brain, that never made me dumb
All that did was made me cum, swear these hoes made me numb
Only feelings for this bitch, you been shoulda gave me some
I knew some niggas who had some bread never gave me crumbs
Drink the whole f*cking juice and never saved me some
I know how young niggas feel, I had to live through shit
See the world as constipated, nobody gon' give you shit
I learned that niggas gon be niggas, yeah we shouldn't do it
But hoes gon' be hoes, they just ain't admitting to it
Where I been? Gettin to it, goin' through and gettin' through it
Running round killin' shit and tellin' cops, "I didn't do it"
That's why they call me "Young OG"
And I'ma spit this dope shit until my tongue OD
I flew my shorty in from Cali and she brung OG
She got me chillin' in my city but my lungs OT, yeah
And f*ck them niggas online, reply why
Broke niggas talkin', cause it's free wifi
Troubled tears, they'll land you there
Open your eyes it's all a disguise
The fear that you feel, is not real, not real
The fear that you feel, is not real, no
Similar sky, similar ties
But I know all about you, I do
My son gon' be a king, I tell him every morning
I put my chain on his neck, right now it's heavy on him
One day it'll all be his, so I'm forever on him
I test him all the time and I never warn him
I pop quiz him like stop listenin' and drop wiz em
Pops vision; the bottoms crowded, the top isn't
We talk guap missions, cops prison
I help him see it clearly, I'm his life optician
Could learn from my experience but youngin' gotta live
Not with that mentality, that something gotta give
Cause that how we grew up, probably should of picked for boogers
Nah we was on them streets, juggin for that mugger
Still, scared that you could get killed
That fear that you feel, was that real
But I'm there like, I will not get killed
So that fear that I feel, is not real boy
I'ma true King, tryna raise a new king
I wanna show him stuff , how to do things
How to ride a bike, how to tie shoe strings
How to be a man, how to treat his boo thing
Gotta have a OG, to give you that "Go 'head"
I don't blame you niggas, I blame your old head
I know all about that, my Poppa wasn't down
Poppa used to come through, Poppa doesn't now
Shoulda' protected me, but Poppa wasn't 'round
So now I got this 9, that pop-a-dozen round
Them kids grow up quick, usually grow you up too
Turn you to a big dog, that's what having pups do
Did a lot, but I know I ain't done yet
Before it goes down, I make sure that my son set
You made so strong, you made this whole song
You made me Young OG, love you Johan
Troubled tears, they'll land you there
Open your eyes it's all a disguise
The fear that you feel, is not real, not real
The fear that you feel, is not real, no
Similar sky, similar ties
But I know all about you, I do
Writer: John Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group