A Little Story

School ya'll to somethin right quick
Sit down, open your ears, close your eyes, listen

Here's a little story that I got to tell
About this Chico named Pit everyone knows so well
Illmatic like Nas but that ain't hard to tell
Owes it all to Dade County and the ATL
Picked rap and skipped the triple beam scale
And it's a known fact he gon' die before he fails
These boys rap about hustlin' but can't make bail
I call that hustling backwards and that's real
Miami's hot so I can vacation in hell
The way the game is shit, man, I mind as well
I look at these fools on camera flashin' they tools
They must've forgot the streets got codes and rules
But me, I'm confused
'Cause rappers wanna be gangstas
Gangstas wanna be rappers
Ballers wanna be rappers
And rappers wanna be ballers
The truth is it's more sickening than Ebola
Until they handcuff then it's over
Pop up no dandruff, no neck, just head and shoulders
Bust guns, sell drugs, that's what the streets showed us
But corporate America, that's what they sold us

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Someday when our dream world finds us and these hard times are gone We'll laugh and count our blessings in a mansion all our own If we both pull together tomorrow's sure to come Someday

There a roadhouse just outside of town on a two-lane blacktop Where all the folks come to hear country music play And every year the city's gettin' closer, Lord knows it won't

Well, you know that I'm cold Black on constellations gold And you know that your soul's Black top under lacing won't let it go It was all for you, all for you and more She

Я не я і ти не я й навкруги смердюче поле Не заходь сонце, бо вони всі загинуть без тебе Бо вони не я, я не в силі пояснити їм Як кохається небо

[Lil Wayne talking] The Do's and Don'ts of Young Money Cash Money. Rule fucking number 1. Don't fucking do one fucking song on a motherfucking album, Get one motherfucking check, and go fucking crazy, And