The Streets, My Cradle

Cradle to the Grave
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Now I don't wanna hurt nobody but I must defend mine! It's all the fuck I got so stop and walk a thin line.

http://yourdairygold2.custodianwebdev.com/die-tore-zur-unterwelt-3-verraeterische-freunde.php Young niggas be brave and keep on thuggin' from the cradle to the grave, From the cradle to the grave. From the cradle to the grave, I'm glad to say I made it this far. Many G's died hard and all they got was their name here up on a wall.

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It's sad thinkin' about the times Life goes on, I'm steady lost in this land It's just me by my lonely so I married my nina. I keeps her wherever I go, I love my ho. Never leave home with out my sugar. I'm hafta plug a nigga. Mama told me not to trust no punks, And kick his ass if he lay a hand on me. Since then I been known. Sometimes I think my own self stupid Cause I stay shootin' at marks, Get twisted up in police reports. Since the cradle, I've been ungreatful.

East End Cradle Portrait Environment by Goldman Willy

My first toy was a gun I got sprung and learn to love weapons. But now I'm through with money and through with street fame. Somebody peeled my cap and put me in my grave. March 18th a rainy day my mama gave birth To a baby boy trapped in hell on Earth. From day one it wasn't fun I never had a crumb. Daddy worked two jobs and Mama won't stop drinkin' rum.

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I tried to cope loc but my family's broke And my pocket's short so now I gotta sling dope. In a game filled with pain it's a fuckin' shame, The white man got a motha fucka slingin' cane. So now it's on from dusk to dawn I get my serve on. Always in the spot with my glock slingin' rocks at the rocks. Shit don't stop I'm steady dodgin' cops. I never flip flop hear my glock cock thug till I drop. And if I hit the pen I gotta do my time Sittin' on my bunk reminiscing about the good times.

It's fucked up a nigga gotta grow up doing dirt, But from the cradle to the grave I'ma put in work. From the cradle to the grave, life ain't never been easyy Living in the ghetto. Time's movin' fast will I last another day?

Parents Take to the Streets

New Releases. Saw by hand or with an electric saw the cuts in the two or three supporting planks that are equal to half of the shelf's measure, knocking them out with a tap of a chisel. To diaper a modern baby costs thousands of dollars, euros. Free to join. And this is how to make a library, like the Bodleian's, in which this cradle can be placed:.

So I pray and I lay with my A-K. Did I sell my soul as a young kid? All the things I did Wishin' someone held me but they never did. I can't take it will I make it to my older age? Before I'm shot up or locked up in a fuckin' cage. Lord help me, guide me, save me! Cause that's the way that Daddy raised me crazy.

Do or die. Nigga pull the trigger don't give a fuck. You'd rather be in jail than get your ass bucked. March 18th a rainy day my mama gave birth To a baby boy trapped in hell on Earth.

From day one it wasn't fun I never had a crumb. Daddy worked two jobs and Mama won't stop drinkin' rum. I tried to cope loc but my family's broke And my pocket's short so now I gotta sling dope. So now it's on from dusk to dawn I get my serve on. Always in the spot with my glock slingin' rocks at the rocks.

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Shit don't stop I'm steady dodgin' cops. I never flip flop hear my glock cock thug till I drop. And if I hit the pen I gotta do my time Sittin' on my bunk reminiscing about the good times.

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From the cradle to the grave, life ain't never been easyy Living in the ghetto. Time's movin' fast will I last another day? So I pray and I lay with my A-K. Did I sell my soul as a young kid? All the things I did Wishin' someone held me but they never did. I can't take it will I make it to my older age? Lord help me, guide me, save me!

The Streets, My Cradle

Cause that's the way that Daddy raised me crazy. Do or die. You'd rather be in jail than get your ass bucked. Nobody cares, it's me against the world. Keepin' murder on my mind and my tech I got nothin' to lose, payin' dues, nigga you wanna die? I get high then my mission is a walk-by.

You'd better jet when I hit your set cause I'm commin'. Start runnin' yellin' "evil mind" as I'm gunnin'. One in the chamber for the anger that I build inside, For the mothers that cried, for my homies that died. The begining is an ending, am I just a slave? So I got to be brave from the cradle to the grave. Please click here if you are not redirected within a few seconds. Advisory - the following lyrics contain explicit language: Chorus From tha Cradle to the Grave, life ain't never been easy Living in the ghetto.

Check Out. You gotta check out.