the game – ol’ english

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“ol’ english”

ol’ english (la-lala-la-la-la-la)
ridin’ by gettin’ high
smokin’ on that chronic drinkin’ ol’ english
rags tied gangs signs letters on my hat in
ol’ english (la-lala-la-la-la-la)
drive by homicide
rip tats in ol’ english westside ’til i die
n-gg-s pourin’ out that ol’ english (la-lala-la-la-la-la)

[verse 1]
once upon a time in the projects yo
i watched my uncle greg put d’s on his six-fo’
i washed it on monday so he bought me a gold chain
shopped crack and watched “colors” and i soaked up game
drove the impala on his lap that was my role model
used to let me kill the corner of his 40-ounce bottle
on the weekend him and my pops flashed the ‘vette
’til one weekend my uncle got stabbed to death
he got murdered by a fiend my pops ain’t like that
he was from nutty block they used to call him maniac
crazy -ss n-gg- wit’ a black panther tat
kill a n-gg- cross him out on his compton hat
told me when i got older i would understand that
it’s blood in blood out and ain’t no turnin’ back
few summers went by and we moved across the tracks
13 that’s when i had my first


[verse 2]
i was the first n-gg- wit’ a starter jacket on the block
used to build model cars and let the motherf-ckers hop
moms banged hoover crip she was known for sellin’ rocks
let me collect the 40-ounce bottles in the dope spot
bought my first converse thought i couldn’t be stopped
when i creased up my khakis and threw on my ronnie lott
used to think that i was hard so i stole my brother’s glock
and that’s the day my life changed ’cause that night he got shot
killed by another crip over his rolex watch
i got high for three years off that chronic from the doc
i was drinkin’ 40-ounces a lot
and every liquor store in compton sold out the day eazy dropped
i start bangin’ red laces in my adidas
drinkin’ out a brown paper bag on my first drive-by
i was a menace to society
but i never left fingerprints on my


[verse 3]
i got a lot of dead homies some blood some crip
this is life stop watchin’ that “boyz n the hood” sh-t
you see this red rag hangin’ out of my jeans?
i went to twenty funerals by the age of nineteen
then i went to college basketball was my dream
quit the team ’cause i rather shoot rock wit’ the fiends
wanted to be freeway rick
he showed me how to trun a stolen 5.0 into a brick
bought a cadillac thought i was rich bangin’ dj quik
on crenshaw got jacked for my sh-t
took a long chronic hit and thought about the time
when i was 12 years old and i emptied my first clip
hit my first switch same night f-cked my first b-tch
thought i was dreamin’ ’til i pinched her t-ts
she caught a stray bullet ridin’ shotgun in my sh-t
so i got her name tatted in


ol’ english [x4]

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