| Song | Back In The Days |
| Artist | Trick Daddy |
| Album | www.thug.com |
| 作词 : Trick Daddy | |
| 作曲 : Trick Daddy | |
| Back in the days | |
| It wasn't no AIDS | |
| It wasn't no AK's | |
| More afros than braids | |
| Wasn't nuttin for a boy to get a straight fade | |
| But not no mo | |
| Niggas done twist up the fro | |
| Let it lock and grow | |
| Quick to go to gunplay bout that flow | |
| Nigga you don't know? | |
| And I'm thinkin bout when | |
| Round the time i was ten | |
| And way before the pen | |
| The worst thing i ever remember seeing | |
| Was a boy get his whole head bashed in | |
| But now they gettin blown off | |
| Whole chest torn off | |
| Whole block roped off | |
| Two clips in his house for ****in round | |
| Runnin off at his damn mouth | |
| Yep back in the days it wadn't bout fame | |
| And it wudn't bout a name | |
| Plus it wudn't no thang | |
| To kill a nigga and do the rest of ya life in the chain gang | |
| But na shit done changed | |
| And I know it seem strange | |
| But I'm a maintain | |
| So I'm a stack my flow and say "**** you hoes" | |
| Stay the **** out the chain gang | |
| Hook | |
| Some hoes no shame | |
| Other hoes play games | |
| See they'll **** ya for the fame | |
| And when the heat is on and they can't hang | |
| Theyll give them crackers yo name | |
| Thell say it under oath | |
| And swear to tell the truth | |
| Run down what ya do | |
| How ya clown wit ya crew | |
| Along with that a list of shit like who ****ed in who house | |
| Tell a ho about ya spot | |
| Where ya threw away the Glock | |
| Bout every bitch that ya shot | |
| Every key that ya caught | |
| And every car that ya drop | |
| The ninety-seven drop tops | |
| And them Carolina trips | |
| And then they grill you the flip | |
| Time and date when ya dip | |
| Every deal you done dealt | |
| And every crib you done built | |
| With no mutha****in guilt | |
| Back in tha days | |
| It wudn't none a this | |
| Ya couldn't pay a bitch to snitch | |
| It just goes to show that | |
| **** niggas and slimy hoes make the world flip the script | |
| Hook | |
| See back in the days | |
| All pimps got paid | |
| And all hoes got slayed | |
| Alot a money got saved | |
| And every playa had it made | |
| In Dade | |
| We was slayed before then | |
| Boys was made before then | |
| Way before them | |
| Raisin poor men | |
| With no choice | |
| Way before them | |
| But na shit done changed | |
| I mean a nigga done came | |
| Ya done took our name | |
| We done peeped yall game | |
| Ya ovalooked our pain | |
| Man, and we ain't tryin to be friends | |
| Ya wudn't tryin back then | |
| Had a problem with my skin | |
| Got together with ya clan | |
| And send a young poor black man | |
| Straight to the pen | |
| Ya had beef with the blacks | |
| But na the blacks got the gats | |
| So if a cracker talk slick his ass gon get whacked | |
| And you can bet that | |
| See nigga | |
| Back in the days | |
| I was young and afraid | |
| So dumb in a way | |
| I was trapped in a maze | |
| So hey | |
| Hook |
| zuò cí : Trick Daddy | |
| zuò qǔ : Trick Daddy | |
| Back in the days | |
| It wasn' t no AIDS | |
| It wasn' t no AK' s | |
| More afros than braids | |
| Wasn' t nuttin for a boy to get a straight fade | |
| But not no mo | |
| Niggas done twist up the fro | |
| Let it lock and grow | |
| Quick to go to gunplay bout that flow | |
| Nigga you don' t know? | |
| And I' m thinkin bout when | |
| Round the time i was ten | |
| And way before the pen | |
| The worst thing i ever remember seeing | |
| Was a boy get his whole head bashed in | |
| But now they gettin blown off | |
| Whole chest torn off | |
| Whole block roped off | |
| Two clips in his house for in round | |
| Runnin off at his damn mouth | |
| Yep back in the days it wadn' t bout fame | |
| And it wudn' t bout a name | |
| Plus it wudn' t no thang | |
| To kill a nigga and do the rest of ya life in the chain gang | |
| But na shit done changed | |
| And I know it seem strange | |
| But I' m a maintain | |
| So I' m a stack my flow and say " you hoes" | |
| Stay the out the chain gang | |
| Hook | |
| Some hoes no shame | |
| Other hoes play games | |
| See they' ll ya for the fame | |
| And when the heat is on and they can' t hang | |
| Theyll give them crackers yo name | |
| Thell say it under oath | |
| And swear to tell the truth | |
| Run down what ya do | |
| How ya clown wit ya crew | |
| Along with that a list of shit like who ed in who house | |
| Tell a ho about ya spot | |
| Where ya threw away the Glock | |
| Bout every bitch that ya shot | |
| Every key that ya caught | |
| And every car that ya drop | |
| The ninetyseven drop tops | |
| And them Carolina trips | |
| And then they grill you the flip | |
| Time and date when ya dip | |
| Every deal you done dealt | |
| And every crib you done built | |
| With no mutha in guilt | |
| Back in tha days | |
| It wudn' t none a this | |
| Ya couldn' t pay a bitch to snitch | |
| It just goes to show that | |
| niggas and slimy hoes make the world flip the script | |
| Hook | |
| See back in the days | |
| All pimps got paid | |
| And all hoes got slayed | |
| Alot a money got saved | |
| And every playa had it made | |
| In Dade | |
| We was slayed before then | |
| Boys was made before then | |
| Way before them | |
| Raisin poor men | |
| With no choice | |
| Way before them | |
| But na shit done changed | |
| I mean a nigga done came | |
| Ya done took our name | |
| We done peeped yall game | |
| Ya ovalooked our pain | |
| Man, and we ain' t tryin to be friends | |
| Ya wudn' t tryin back then | |
| Had a problem with my skin | |
| Got together with ya clan | |
| And send a young poor black man | |
| Straight to the pen | |
| Ya had beef with the blacks | |
| But na the blacks got the gats | |
| So if a cracker talk slick his ass gon get whacked | |
| And you can bet that | |
| See nigga | |
| Back in the days | |
| I was young and afraid | |
| So dumb in a way | |
| I was trapped in a maze | |
| So hey | |
| Hook |