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Pastor Troy - Boys to Men lyrics
Artist: Pastor Troy f/ Chip, Eight-ball Album: By Any Means Necessary Song: Boys To Men Typed By: Sixstarr6finest@hotmail.com* * send corrections to the typist [Pastor Troy Talking] Ayo this ya boy Pastor Troy checkin in right, yuh (This from the soul) Ayo, on this joint right here man we bout to just break it down to you man just the transition to becoming..a man (This from the heart) That some of yall gone have to go through man everybody on the sound of my voice (This from the soul) Everything gone be cool man, From Boys to Men [Verse 1] Pastor Troy No one to doubt me, I'm not here lonely Childhood secrets still wid my homies I recall days when I blazed up on the hill Not knowin' wud the future would hold, just kept it real We ridin' on the 'Lac with the boys to other schools We catch 'em at dey football games and act a fool And everybody know my name, it's Michael Troy We made all them bullies respect Falcon Boy I got my folks worried, I'm suspended everyday Sometimes I ain't tell 'em and caught the train to the A The FirePoint Station, Supreme location I'm only 15, tho at the lil' scene [Chorus] No one to pry me, I'm all alone No one to cry on He'd shelter from the rain..to ease the pain Changing from boys to men [Verse 2] I've done seen stabbings, i've done seen shootings I've done seen a robbery, i've done seen two But I ain't even 15, so when i turn 16 Im'ma get dat chrome thing wid da beam My team was da wreckin' crew, like juice The type of niggas on our side do, who was the truth I bet them killaz on his side respect game That other nigga from the southside, was lame My name is Stone, Charlestown to the bone Lil' Wayne and Scooby, we rocking MCM and Gucci I'm nine years old, that nigga let me touch a Uzi I wanted to kill, just like i saw up in the movie No wonder one of my friend shot himself in his head Playin' wid the gun from under his mothers bed Don't wanna call his name too tough, we'll call him Fred We watch my nigga while he bled (when we was young) [Chorus] [Verse 3] Eight-ball Lord knows we be tryin hard, God watching over us Mama told me "baby dun be goin to school cuttin up" Did I listen, hell naw, listen let me tell ya'll Streets transform mamas only into eight-ball Errywhere I go, niggaz know I speak that poetry See my +Chilouette+ like I'm +Alfred Hitchcock+ and they know its me Bottom line met a lot of niggaz on the grind getting them dimes Murder they ass, escape the scene like I committed the crime A friend of mine, don't rap he doing illegal business 18-Wheeler, Fed, X, bricks, did wid killaz He smoke and dipped'em drunk with Crys and get to beating his bitches Them bitches down though, come straight back after they get thru strippen I'm outta' town, next to the church see his lil' brotha cryin Told me his brotha killed himself, I said nigga you lyin He put the gun to his mouth and blew his brain out He couldn't handle this goddamn shit that we sang 'bout |
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