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Artist:Mordred  Album:The Next Room 

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Pause My man Holo told me the devil would control me If I didn't have a hold of my soul and mind 'Cause now I think back on when I used to sell crack To all the twigged-out bags makin' a grip in '89 It's a... she made Philmo' clique Eight years old niggers on the corner running bags While I'm in the park smokin' weed & drinkin' port It was the boys in the hood taggin' fucking... But-a, that was the past, all that I'm thinking of other ways of making my pockets fat And mixing those beats on plastic They like tricks, fool You can't have it silly rabbit Kimball Got the past in the past and we're in the present tense Looking out from where we are, it's amazing that we got this far Like a... it hits, gonna follow you... Like a son in your gun, turn the corner and the door is shut Pause Back when I was young in the hood carryin' a gun

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