Things Done Changed Lyrics

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 barbecues, 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 liftin' shit So step away with your fist fight ways Motherfucker, this ain't back in the days But you don't hear me though
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 To 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
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 jump shot
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? Every time 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