Back in the days
It wasn't no AIDS
It wasn't no AK's
More Afros than braids

Wasn't nothin' for a boy to get a straight fade
But not no mo
niggers done twist up the fro
Let it lock and grow

Quick to go to gun play bout that fro
nigger you don't know

And I'm thinkin' bout when
Round the time i was ten
And way before the pen
The worst thing i ever remember seeing

Was a boy get his whole head bashed in
But now they gettin' blown off
Whole chest torn off
Whole block roped off

Two clips in his house for fuckin round
Runnin off at his damn mouth
Yep back in the days it wadn't bout fame
And it wouldn't bout a name

Plus it wouldn't no thang
To kill a nigger and do the rest of ya life in the chain gang
But na shit done changed
And I know it seem strange

But I'm a maintain
So I'm a stack my flow and say "fuck you hoes"
stay the fuck out the chain gang

[Chorus]
Some hoes no shame
Other hoes play games
See they'll fuck ya for the fame
And when the heat is on and they can't hang
they'll give them crackers yo name
They'll say it under oath
And swear to tell the truth

Run down what ya do
How ya clown wit ya crew
Along with that a list of shit like who fucked in who house
Tell a ho about ya spot

Where ya threw away the glock
But every bitch that ya shot
Every key that ya caught
And every car that ya drop

The ninety-seven drop tops
And them Carolina trips
And then they grill you the flip
Time and date when ya dip

Every deal you done dealt
And every crib you done built
With no motherfuckin' guilt

Back in the days
It wouldn't none a this
Ya couldn't pay a bitch to snitch
It just goes to show that
Fuck niggers and slimy hoes make the world flip the script

[Chorus]

See back in the days
All pimps got paid
And all hoes got slayed
A lot a money got saved

And every player had it made
In Dade
We was slayed before then
Boys was made before then

Way before them
Raisin poor men
With no choice
Way before them

But na shit done changed
I mean a nigger done came
Ya done took our name
We done peeped y'all game

Ya overlooked our pain
Man, and we ain't tryin' to be friends
Ya wouldn't tryin' back then
Had a problem with my skin

Got together with ya clan
And send a young poor black man
Straight to the pen
Ya had beef with the blacks

But na the blacks got the gats
So if a cracker talk slick his ass gon get whacked
And you can bet that
See nigger

Back in the days
I was young and afraid
So dumb in a way
I was trapped in a maze
So hey

[Chorus]

Written By Young, Maurice

Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.


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