Things Done Changed

Notorious B.I.G.

  • 																					Verse One:

    Remember back in the days, when niggaz had waves
    Gazelle shades, and corn braids
    Pitchin pennies, honies had the high top jellies
    Shootin skelly, motherfuckers was all friendly
    Loungin at the barbeques, drinkin brews
    with the neighborhood crews, hangin on the avenues
    Turn your pagers, to nineteen ninety three
    Niggaz is gettin smoked G, believe me
    Talk slick, you get your neck slit quick
    Cause real street niggaz ain't havin that shit
    Totin techs for rep, smokin blunts in the project
    hallways, shootin dice all day
    Wait for niggaz to step up on some fightin shit
    We get hype and shit and start lifin shit
    So step away with your fist fight ways
    Motherfucker this ain't back in the days, but you
    don't hear me though

    Verse Two:

    No more cocoa leave-io, one two three
    One two three, all of this to me, is a mystery
    I hear you motherfuckers talk about it
    But I stay seein bodies with the motherfuckin chalk
    around it
    And I'm down with the shit too
    For the stupid motherfuckers wanna try to use Kung-Fu
    Instead of a Mac-10 he tried scrappin
    Slugs in his back and, that's what the fuck happens
    when you sleep on the street
    Little motherfuckers with heat, want ta leave a nigga
    six feet deep
    And we comin to the wake
    To make sure the cryin and commotion ain't a
    motherfuckin fake
    Back in the days, our parents used to take care of us
    Look at em now, they even fuckin scared of us
    Callin the city for help because they can't maintain
    Damn, shit done changed

    Verse Three:

    If I wasn't in the rap game
    I'd probably have a key knee deep in the crack game
    Because the streets is a short stop
    Either you're slingin crack rock or you got a wicked
    jumpshot
    Shit, it's hard being young from the slums
    eatin five cent gums not knowin where your meals comin
    from
    And now the shit's gettin crazier and major
    Kids younger than me, they got the Sky grand Pagers
    Goin outta town, blowin up
    Six months later all the dead bodies showin up
    It make me wanna grab the nine and the shottie
    But I gotta go identify the body
    Damn, what happened to the summertime cookouts?
    Everytime I turn around a nigga gettin took out
    Shit, my momma got cancer in her breast
    Don't ask me why I'm motherfuckin stressed, things
    done changed

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