Remember - Explicit Version Lyrics
| Song | Remember - Explicit Version |
| Artist | Nature |
| Album | For All Seasons |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| "yo nate, shit is crazy, i shook hands with mad dead niggas yo, all the | |
| Niggas that used to be on the block, ill will, marty, black ed, yo son, | |
| Mad niggas is gone, rest in peace though." | |
| Verse 1： | |
| Fifty-two blocks, gazelle frames | |
| Bald heads and heavy chains | |
| Somehow caught in the game | |
| Back in '83, before cable tv | |
| When these so called thug niggas played in the street | |
| I used to hear the stories | |
| Live niggas here before me | |
| Like the rich porters, the fat cats, the pauly's | |
| Outlaw league, from the street to the pen | |
| Eyes glossy, niggas only speak when they bent | |
| Off the perfect mixture | |
| Forcin' down herbs and liquor | |
| Only hot slugs 'll hurt ya quicker | |
| Think it out and elevate, i gave years to the state | |
| As a 92-r-7478, it set me straight | |
| The changing of a stubborn cat | |
| The one that used to hustle on the block mad hard and loved to rap | |
| In goose down coats and wool hats, the youth in me | |
| I guess life on the streets ain't what it used to be. | |
| Chorus | |
| I remember! (echo) | |
| When niggas used to live it up, live it up | |
| Flashin' dough all night | |
| I remember! (echo) | |
| When niggas didn't give a ****, gettin' drunk | |
| Shootin' guns all night. | |
| Verse 2: | |
| Straight shots of hen with no chaser | |
| Mo' paper, stubborn, hard headed like joe frazier | |
| The gremlins, the pack that i come with | |
| Keep gats by the stomach | |
| Act up and stack hundreds | |
| Niggas don't want it, see me i be the ring leader, lion tamer | |
| Do the bankhead and macarena | |
| A black entertainer, bottom line | |
| Ya'll niggas know who got the hottest rhymes | |
| Face it, i got the whole globe on some nate shit | |
| Straight from the corners to the covers of the latest rap pages | |
| Turn the projects to black vegas | |
| Don kingin' niggas, make 'em sign blank papers | |
| It's the american way, do my enemies pray or is it just me? | |
| Hustlin', hopin' the fiends trust me | |
| Talkin' to us, hold up, let me walk you through this | |
| Wannabe pimps, hoes, often shooters | |
| Niggas need to know what the truth is | |
| **** the sarcasm | |
| I miss my nigga mark but god has 'em | |
| When i see his flics i start spazzin' | |
| I learned to let it go | |
| But i guess livin' this life a nigga never know. | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse 3: | |
| I used to love starters, thug garments | |
| Boppin' into spofford, r.o.r. on drug charges | |
| Writin' on walls, florescent markers and krylon | |
| Savin' my loot to buy a firearm | |
| Broken safety, borough hall and jay street | |
| Hopped the train not knowin' that a fall awaits me | |
| Problems came when i started slingin' | |
| Late night i hear revolvers ringin' | |
| The echos cause cops to start rodney kingin' | |
| Many riots, is there any silence? | |
| Everybody sipped henny, hustled with many clients | |
| Growin' up on the same block my pops was raised | |
| Rocked waves, blend tapes playin' on hot days | |
| Brought the speakers out | |
| Police made us put the wrieffer out | |
| Peep it, i was too young to leave the house | |
| I'm tryin' to see the world, runnin' the streets without a care | |
| I remember it well 'cause i was there. | |
| Chorus |
| " yo nate, shit is crazy, i shook hands with mad dead niggas yo, all the | |
| Niggas that used to be on the block, ill will, marty, black ed, yo son, | |
| Mad niggas is gone, rest in peace though." | |
| Verse 1: | |
| Fiftytwo blocks, gazelle frames | |
| Bald heads and heavy chains | |
| Somehow caught in the game | |
| Back in ' 83, before cable tv | |
| When these so called thug niggas played in the street | |
| I used to hear the stories | |
| Live niggas here before me | |
| Like the rich porters, the fat cats, the pauly' s | |
| Outlaw league, from the street to the pen | |
| Eyes glossy, niggas only speak when they bent | |
| Off the perfect mixture | |
| Forcin' down herbs and liquor | |
| Only hot slugs ' ll hurt ya quicker | |
| Think it out and elevate, i gave years to the state | |
| As a 92r7478, it set me straight | |
| The changing of a stubborn cat | |
| The one that used to hustle on the block mad hard and loved to rap | |
| In goose down coats and wool hats, the youth in me | |
| I guess life on the streets ain' t what it used to be. | |
| Chorus | |
| I remember! echo | |
| When niggas used to live it up, live it up | |
| Flashin' dough all night | |
| I remember! echo | |
| When niggas didn' t give a , gettin' drunk | |
| Shootin' guns all night. | |
| Verse 2: | |
| Straight shots of hen with no chaser | |
| Mo' paper, stubborn, hard headed like joe frazier | |
| The gremlins, the pack that i come with | |
| Keep gats by the stomach | |
| Act up and stack hundreds | |
| Niggas don' t want it, see me i be the ring leader, lion tamer | |
| Do the bankhead and macarena | |
| A black entertainer, bottom line | |
| Ya' ll niggas know who got the hottest rhymes | |
| Face it, i got the whole globe on some nate shit | |
| Straight from the corners to the covers of the latest rap pages | |
| Turn the projects to black vegas | |
| Don kingin' niggas, make ' em sign blank papers | |
| It' s the american way, do my enemies pray or is it just me? | |
| Hustlin', hopin' the fiends trust me | |
| Talkin' to us, hold up, let me walk you through this | |
| Wannabe pimps, hoes, often shooters | |
| Niggas need to know what the truth is | |
| the sarcasm | |
| I miss my nigga mark but god has ' em | |
| When i see his flics i start spazzin' | |
| I learned to let it go | |
| But i guess livin' this life a nigga never know. | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse 3: | |
| I used to love starters, thug garments | |
| Boppin' into spofford, r. o. r. on drug charges | |
| Writin' on walls, florescent markers and krylon | |
| Savin' my loot to buy a firearm | |
| Broken safety, borough hall and jay street | |
| Hopped the train not knowin' that a fall awaits me | |
| Problems came when i started slingin' | |
| Late night i hear revolvers ringin' | |
| The echos cause cops to start rodney kingin' | |
| Many riots, is there any silence? | |
| Everybody sipped henny, hustled with many clients | |
| Growin' up on the same block my pops was raised | |
| Rocked waves, blend tapes playin' on hot days | |
| Brought the speakers out | |
| Police made us put the wrieffer out | |
| Peep it, i was too young to leave the house | |
| I' m tryin' to see the world, runnin' the streets without a care | |
| I remember it well ' cause i was there. | |
| Chorus |
| " yo nate, shit is crazy, i shook hands with mad dead niggas yo, all the | |
| Niggas that used to be on the block, ill will, marty, black ed, yo son, | |
| Mad niggas is gone, rest in peace though." | |
| Verse 1: | |
| Fiftytwo blocks, gazelle frames | |
| Bald heads and heavy chains | |
| Somehow caught in the game | |
| Back in ' 83, before cable tv | |
| When these so called thug niggas played in the street | |
| I used to hear the stories | |
| Live niggas here before me | |
| Like the rich porters, the fat cats, the pauly' s | |
| Outlaw league, from the street to the pen | |
| Eyes glossy, niggas only speak when they bent | |
| Off the perfect mixture | |
| Forcin' down herbs and liquor | |
| Only hot slugs ' ll hurt ya quicker | |
| Think it out and elevate, i gave years to the state | |
| As a 92r7478, it set me straight | |
| The changing of a stubborn cat | |
| The one that used to hustle on the block mad hard and loved to rap | |
| In goose down coats and wool hats, the youth in me | |
| I guess life on the streets ain' t what it used to be. | |
| Chorus | |
| I remember! echo | |
| When niggas used to live it up, live it up | |
| Flashin' dough all night | |
| I remember! echo | |
| When niggas didn' t give a , gettin' drunk | |
| Shootin' guns all night. | |
| Verse 2: | |
| Straight shots of hen with no chaser | |
| Mo' paper, stubborn, hard headed like joe frazier | |
| The gremlins, the pack that i come with | |
| Keep gats by the stomach | |
| Act up and stack hundreds | |
| Niggas don' t want it, see me i be the ring leader, lion tamer | |
| Do the bankhead and macarena | |
| A black entertainer, bottom line | |
| Ya' ll niggas know who got the hottest rhymes | |
| Face it, i got the whole globe on some nate shit | |
| Straight from the corners to the covers of the latest rap pages | |
| Turn the projects to black vegas | |
| Don kingin' niggas, make ' em sign blank papers | |
| It' s the american way, do my enemies pray or is it just me? | |
| Hustlin', hopin' the fiends trust me | |
| Talkin' to us, hold up, let me walk you through this | |
| Wannabe pimps, hoes, often shooters | |
| Niggas need to know what the truth is | |
| the sarcasm | |
| I miss my nigga mark but god has ' em | |
| When i see his flics i start spazzin' | |
| I learned to let it go | |
| But i guess livin' this life a nigga never know. | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse 3: | |
| I used to love starters, thug garments | |
| Boppin' into spofford, r. o. r. on drug charges | |
| Writin' on walls, florescent markers and krylon | |
| Savin' my loot to buy a firearm | |
| Broken safety, borough hall and jay street | |
| Hopped the train not knowin' that a fall awaits me | |
| Problems came when i started slingin' | |
| Late night i hear revolvers ringin' | |
| The echos cause cops to start rodney kingin' | |
| Many riots, is there any silence? | |
| Everybody sipped henny, hustled with many clients | |
| Growin' up on the same block my pops was raised | |
| Rocked waves, blend tapes playin' on hot days | |
| Brought the speakers out | |
| Police made us put the wrieffer out | |
| Peep it, i was too young to leave the house | |
| I' m tryin' to see the world, runnin' the streets without a care | |
| I remember it well ' cause i was there. | |
| Chorus |
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