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    8ball & Mjg / Lyrics

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    "Anotha Day In Tha Hood" Lyrics

    8ball & Mjg

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    [ VERSE 1: Eightball ]
    Eightball the Fat Mac must express
    While a nigga's gettin zooted from the potent-ass sess
    Lookin back, damn, I was wild as a juvenile
    Mama showed love and she struggled for her only child
    But like my dad I was stuck in the streets
    I never wanted to work hard, cause that shit ain't for me
    Back then only 16, ignorant and curious
    Mom's gettin periods cause I wasn't serious
    I said fuck school teachers and the church preachers
    I wanted to hang with my niggas with the street sweepers
    Back in the days sellin herbs on the [Name]
    Me and Squeaky doin city-wide talent shows
    Gettin dissed, gettin pissed cause of this shit
    Cause it's so hard in this muthafuckin business
    I said many times, "Mama, I'ma make you proud"
    But I could never leave the thug life of Orange Mound
    I'm on the corner drinkin Thunderbird, slingin rocks
    They in my hands cause the cops know 'bout the matchbox
    But I can't sell dope, rappin is the way, gee
    And this is just another day around the homies

    [ VERSE 2: MJG ]
    ..mid day, I was deep into a sleep
    Unconscious from that hay that they distribute on em streets
    My world was constantly spinnin from the Rmy that was in me
    And we ain't half-stepped on them blunts, we chiefed up plenty
    A penny to be earned in a day is what I'm looking for
    Hopin for, some kind of way to make a little more ducats
    Fuck it, shit that I just needed, I just stuck it
    Up, hell, nigga might as well
    Proceed to hustle like a p-i-m-p
    MJ fuckin G
    The nigga with the muthafuckin clout, no doubt
    The pimps is in the muthafuckin house
    Be up out [Name], black folk is takin over
    You know how I know? Gimme the mic and I show ya
    I teach ya, I reach ya with this pimpalistic knowledge
    The shit a nigga learned back in Break-A-Bitch College
    Started, to hustle at the age of 11
    Started makin money when a nigga turned 12
    Started to induldge at the age of 13
    At 14 a nigga flatfoot was raisin hell
    In the muthafuckin hood

    [ VERSE 3: Eightball ]
    So many rappers in this industry, I don't doubt
    That it's a bunch of niggas broke with a CD out
    It ain't new to me, cause me and MJG
    Had to struggle just to hustle down in Tennessee
    In Memphis, tryin to be a rapper
    But rappin don't mean shit to Elvis Presley-lovin crackers
    Plus I'm with a record label gankin me and fuckin me
    Niggas always promsisin me shit that I will never see
    Trick-buster always talkin 'bout we family
    But while I was rappin he was snortin up my royalty
    So I got smart, hit the streets and said fuck that
    That's when this nigga named T Money heard our first track
    Pack em up, move em out, straight down to Texas
    Me and JG ridin drop-top Lexus
    "Coming Out Hard" on the charts in the 'Billboard'
    Second album droppin and we waitin on our first award
    Niggas talkin cause the crew ain't walkin no mo'
    Them jealous busters tryin to start shit over hoes
    I don't know what is worse, livin bad or livin good
    But the whole world remind me of my neighborhood

    [ VERSE 4: MJG ]
    See, I'm a self-made hustler, trustin the
    Niggas who think that two heads are better than one
    And ready to get the job done, son
    MJG gots game in the street sale
    That makes me get lifts in the studio
    Even though it was kind of hard as far as I can see
    Growin up in the Orange Mound Tennessee community
    Could it be the future had love for a nigga who
    Struggled through all type of shit for a bill or two?
    Still I do shows for my fans cause my fans buy my tapes
    And the tapes make my g's and the g's keeps me straight
    And I hate when the busters smile all in my face like a hoe
    And talk shit in the down low
    Look out, punk, mutha-fucka, sucka, niggas
    My finger's gettin tired of the trigger, dig a
    Grave, shit, cause I don't want his boys to have to deal
    With the smell of the trick I just killed
    ???? if you can't hang with the stress, best
    Wipe the big 'S' off your muthafuckin chest
    Press issues, makin sure they fully understood
    'bout a young nigga life in the muthafuckin hood
    This song was submitted on April 13th, 2005.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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