| Back in the days was kinda crazy, kid I started out with nothin
|
| Wasn’t livin like Thanksgiving, I was turkey without the stuffin
|
| Sometimes I sweared to God that I was headed for the poorhouse
|
| Say mama caught the drama, she would bleed tryin to feed 4 mouths
|
| Wasn’t rockin Girbauds, I barely had clothes, and when it snowed
|
| and temperatures droppin below zero, you know I froze
|
| No CD’s, a black and white TV, a seat is a rubber tire
|
| with a hanger for the antenna, turned channels with some pliers
|
| Had nothin in my cabinet, but cans of Raid
|
| I’m knockin on my neighbor’s door
|
| to borrow a cup of sugar for my Kool-Aid
|
| I wasn’t freshly dipped, my gear was straight ripped, I’m trippin
|
| cause my winter coat got lost buttons
|
| and zippers that wouldn’t stay zipped
|
| I never remembered ?, the brother was straight fat cat
|
| Not even a Big Mac black, I had Kid Castle topped with crackerjacks
|
| Walkin the streets, with the weak sneaks on my feet
|
| And the freaks wouldn’t speak, I never had lipstick on my cheek
|
| So much for gettin humped from the stunts, I always struck out
|
| The one y’all likes is takin hikes if you can’t pull a buck out
|
| So now I gots to dedicate my next plate to all the homeboys and girls
|
| Straight up baby, I’m blowin up in the world
|
| Blowin up, blowin up in the world
|
| Blowin up, blowin up in the world!
|
| I’m blowin up the world, I gotta get mines, I gotta get mines
|
| I gotsta get mines, youknowhatI’msayin? |
| I’m blowin up in the world
|
| Blowin up, blowin up in the world
|
| Blowin up, blowin up in the world!
|
| I’m blowin up the world, I gotta get mines, I gotta get mines
|
| I gotsta get mines, yeah…
|
| It seems like only yesterday, my moms was on my back
|
| Get your butt up out the sack and find a job or hit the road Jack
|
| Black, I don’t disown her, I’m just a kid from Corona
|
| with a G.E.D. |
| diploma, with more ribs showin than Tony Rhoma’s
|
| In order to get straight, I gotsta to make a muscle
|
| Learned to hustle and bustle and I gave the streets a tussle
|
| Standin down on the corner slangin fat rocks to bottles
|
| with the black tops, for cops got my shorty watchin my back Hobbes
|
| Makin mad lucci, bought up Louis Vuitton gucci
|
| Hoochies callin me boochi, while they smooch me, givin up the coochie
|
| Now I’m a felon, started sellin and splittin melons
|
| I started gellin, to tellin police just cause I was swellin
|
| Hangin out on the corner playin cee-lo, rollin for half a kilo
|
| Yo you’ll never see G-low a-goin below
|
| Yeah, straight gettin fortunate, as long as fees was torchin it It started gettin hot around the block, the cops was scorchin it But luckily I made out before the coppers could frisk me and diss me cause business is drugs is gettin too risky
|
| So now I just lamp, collect stamps, snatch up tramps diamonds and pearls
|
| Straight up baby, I’m blowin up in the world
|
| Blowin up, blowin up in the world
|
| Blowin up, blowin up in the world!
|
| I’m blowin up the world, I gotta get mines, I gotta get mines
|
| I gotsta get mines, youknowhatI’msayin? |
| I’m blowin up in the world
|
| Blowin up, blowin up in the world
|
| Blowin up, blowin up in the world!
|
| I’m blowin up the world, I gotta get mines, I gotta get mines
|
| I gotsta get mines, yeah…
|
| I got put on by DJ Polo, cut the record, It’s a Demo
|
| and started chillin in limos with champagne and tinted windows
|
| Hoppin, no time for pages, sportin gold chains and rings
|
| Clockin money and fame, nothin changed, I’m still the same
|
| Just spendin 20's and 10's at women pullin on my linen
|
| and grinnin cause I was winnin in this game from the beginning
|
| The lyrical skills was kinda ill, gave you a slight chill
|
| So I just let the hype build, known for rappers run and go write wills
|
| I turned from a hobo to a solo bozin for dolos
|
| Stole my dough, you still below, now I perfer cigars and blow Mo'
|
| So catch a flashback, of a G. Rap track, attacked, like a headcrack
|
| that’s smack, through your cap, with the lead black
|
| And here’s a new cut, for pooh-butt, rappers hangin from off my two nuts like they was put there by members of the Ku Klux
|
| So peep Kool G. Rap, don’t sleep, money unless it’s witcha girl
|
| Straight up kid, I’m blowin up in the world
|
| Blowin up, blowin up in the world
|
| Blowin up, blowin up in the world!
|
| I’m blowin up the world, I gotta get mines, I gotta get mines
|
| I gotsta get mines, youknowhatI’msayin? |
| I’m blowin up in the world
|
| Blowin up, blowin up in the world
|
| Blowin up, blowin up in the world!
|
| I’m blowin up the world, I gotta get mines, I gotta get mines
|
| I gotsta get mines, yeah… |