Night Blows, stoves don't work, hoes at work
A warrior, so I wear 'em on my shirt
Wish I was free as Che was, I spend the day buzzed
Trippin' on heights, wishin' for nights in different flavors
The age of Kane and Big Daddy shown by the Caddys
Uncles named Larry, that never really grabbed me
My mother gave birth but she really never had me
Left to the hood to play daddy
Raised by jiggas named Butch through the bay bay
With weights so they weigh they, status on the streets
License plates that say they, motto, this is Chicago in the heyday
Similiar to Good Times, I guess that I was J.J.
A skinny jigga, young girls with penny figures
So many jiggaz, stacked upon each other
It's the black upon each other that we love so much
Wonder how many of us these drugs gonna touch
Used to gangbang, ain't really thug that much
Rather have some thick broads then the dutch to clutch
Went to school in Baton Rouge for a couple of years
My college career got down with a couple of beers
Came back home, now I gotta pay back loans
Same jiggas, same block, same shit they own
Only thing different, quicker, they click that chrome
In my defense, yo I had to hit that zone
Man to man, I'm good workin' with my hands
My generation never understood workin' for the man
And, of bein' broke I ain't a fan
Now I stand in the same spot as my old man
My life I planned not to be on this corner
I still wanna see California
But this is my world
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