Lost Boyz

Lost Boyz

  •  Name Lost Boyz
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  • Lost Boyz Lost Boyz - Keep It Real Lyrics

           

    [Mr.CHEEKS]
    Yo believe I paid the dues man I started in the game
    With mans on linden and devane we drinking ghetto champagne
    Slinging rocks and packing glocks on the blocks
    It's early in the morning I'm selling tumbs from my reeboks
    Tres nicks and dimes I write rhymes
    But the ghetto times they got the cheeks doing crimes
    The street life yeah that's the only life I know
    Where niggas sling rocks bust shots and push yeahyo
    Sit on crates keep their backs against gates
    Every man is insane he's got a brain like norman bates
    Timberland boots ski hats we pack gats
    Carry across town because we tapping niggas hoodrats
    But they don't want the fam
    See a south side jamaica queen fellas get down man
    Listen so what your crew is x-rated
    Peoples if you violate you getting violated

    (Chorus)
    Come on and keep it real; this is saying
    that the lost boy and group home fam want it all what would you do
    And if you feel that you'se a real soldier from the street
    throw your hand in the air we salute you
    Bounce it up town bounce it down south
    Bounce bounce it up town bounce it down south

    I had a messed up childhood the head is mad nappy
    I need money in a snap gee kid I'm trying to blow like papi
    Fat cat the street life is where it's at
    Peeling caps so yo we got to stay strapped
    Terrified cause the crew from the south side is bustin
    No question
    I keep my hear in braids taliq got dreads
    Hangin out in the reds wearing levis and pro-keds
    Pouring beer on the curb for the dead
    I had to bring drama to some powder head
    (Freaky TAH) hey yo cut the music down
    Yo half the world thought the album failed in this 94 and its on..

    I'm smoking weed in 96' with my peeps
    Jetting from the police cause police they'se a bunch of creeps
    I'm testing off the new burners in the park
    We sleep during the day and creep when it's dark
    I once had to cry when I seen Tyrone die
    This black on black crime I cram to understand why
    Baby girls having kids in their teens
    Young fellows baggy jeans slinging crack to the crack fiends
    That's the type of lifestyle that I lead
    With my fams on the corner drinking beers and smoking weed
    Yo believe I been through all the struggles and the pain
    I'm ripping out my hairs and I can't get to my brain
    I want the gold teeth and chains
    I hustle with timberland boots and rainsuits when it rains.
    Fools make your moves pay dues
    Give up your cheese you loose my baby boy need shoes
    Stepping to the CHEEKS you made an error
    You been to the ?house of pain? now welcome to my yard of terror
    What you think I'm some sucka
    Word to him I stomp you out with my tim chukkas
    Who who you stepping to the lost boy crew
    Boy get stomped that ass is through

    (Chorus)

    See we live the street life
    Smoking blunts with the wife stay on point like a ....
    Every day on rockaway is getting hotta
    I can't do what a wanna I do what I gotta
    Survive I might not be around in 95
    See I was taught young to be strong and just strive
    So nowadays we packing guns
    We racking grimy hills for funds and I stash all my sons mons
    A little man to look after
    Taking rap as a joke but I see no laughter
    To man Charles Suitte and big tig in Atlanta and Va.....

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