Poor me, dad was gone, finally got my dad back Liver bad, he wouldn't live long, they snatched my dad back Guidance? I never had that, streets was my second home Welcomed me with open arms provided a place to crash at A place to study math at, matter of fact, I learned it all Burned it all, this music is where I bury the ashes at Had to get some chollah bread so you can holla back, and holla that Flash back, not having much, not having that My Jewish lawyer too enjoyed the fruit of letting my cash stack And just in case a nigga gotta use his rat-tat-tat-tat Own boss, own your masters, slaves The mentality I carry with me to this very day Fuck rich, let's get wealthy, who else gon feed we? If I need it, I'mma get it however, God help me And I don't need no hook for this shit
I'm so fa sho, it's no facade "Stay outta trouble," momma said as momma sighed Her fear: her youngest son be a victim of homicide But I gotta get you outta here momma, or I'mma die inside And either way, you lose me momma so let loose of me I got the rein our direction will soon change To live and die in N.Y. in the hustle game Hustle caine, hustle clothes, I hustle music But hustle hard in any hustle that you pick Skinny nigga, toothpick, but, but I do lift Weight like I'm using roids Rolls-Royce keep my movements, smooth while maneuvering Through all the manure in the sewer that I grew up in Choices, we make trying to escape And I don't need no hook for this shit
This is not for commercial usage Please don't categorize this as music Please don't compare me to other rappers Compare me to trappers, I'm more Frank Lucas than Ludacris And Luda's my dude, I ain't trying to diss Like Frank Lucas is cool, but I ain't trying to snitch I'ma follow the rules no matter how much time I'mma get I'mma live and die with the decisions that I'mma pick So fuck DeHaven for caving, that's why we don't speak Made men ain't supposed to make statements End of the story, I followed the code, cracked the safe Other niggas ain't in the game so they practice hate Leave that boy Hov alone, why don't cha? You don't have to if you don't want to But don't say I didn't warn ya Oh And I don't need no hook for this shit
Writer/s: Barry White, Deleno Sean Matthews, Levar Coppin, Sean J. Combs, Shawn Carter
Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., WORDS & MUSIC A DIV OF BIG DEAL MUSIC LLC
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind
Robin Thicke and his mom, Gloria Loring are the first the first ever mother-and-son to have both tallied top 10 singles on the Hot 100 as solo artists or duos. Loring reached #2 with Carl Anderson in 1986 with "Friends and Lovers" and Thicke topped the chart in 2013 with "Blurred Lines."