(Sometimes I feel like a child) (Yo yo guzzlin' forties, get it on fella, no doubt) The wiley Wu Tang comes back, Man strikes back (Lou Diamonds, Starks) your whole empire no doubt
Rich man, poor man, read the Niggas getting murdered for and bigger dimes and drug wars living by gun law Jailcats come home and want to yours
As the one, growing up broke me and my people As the self, huh, I guess we all in the same Think it, plus that ninety proof Playin' on the roof sayin' we need a man to shoot
(Sometimes I feel, like a child)
Yo, I know a rich kid, who got hit for bricks Showin' off his eight plus, what a nice whip blood guzzlin' fourties hussled in a rain Old Earth, shootin' dope in her
He never had it all, the kid basketball Had a favorite song, "I Miss You" written by Hall Now to the original, neighborhood, criminals Clocking dollars, by the hour like his
silencers, he rolled around with the Wildest niggaz peeling known as the Islanders From Staten, where clips be clappin' Slept in his principal spreads, threads of satin'
as the cow he had crazy beef Seen him at the flicks, he pulled out on Duke, Hez and But he fucked up, he shoulda kept it real and went for 'Cause if he don't, niggaz with black barrels will
But, shit calm down, one day downtown He an ounce off Money had like a nightgown He rolled up in the Albee Square, relax like he lived in Two was beamin' him, them niggaz from the movie theatre
One had all guess on, lookin' like he had a on The other felly pell tucked with a Movin' slow, baseball hats, down low Word God, this bull kag nigga gotta go
Oh shit, Bookhead, just bought a five, G King Tudpea the size of Little Maurice We got to get up baby, no cousin, to ten I'm runnin' in, my instance Is to return 'em the time is now warfare and pull
Remember me, the from the UA and you pulled out move don't even flinch Fix 'em up, drop the head, want to get blood in the tux He burped, I shot him, bitch out I'm robbin' him
Had to hit him ten more times make I got him Told the lay on the floor, shake the comedy Randy out wacked out with a half a shotty I laughed, the King Tud head and the cash
he shot my man in the ass And mega glass Damn, had to go out a blast I my way up out of the Albee fast
(Sometimes I feel, like a child) Oh shit, the fuck? This is horrible (Sometimes I feel, a motherless child) No doubt this is how we (Sometimes I feel, like a child) (Sometimes I feel, a motherless child)