Autobiographical 创作者： 
Black Sheep 
N/A•
调：Gb major•
Verse 1
D
It's the brown child,
better version of the story
Sees Conji, a sister, mother played by Tori
In Astoria, kid named Tiki took the cake
The greens and the steak
and the potatoes and the plate
Never a dummy, rejections are funny
First years of my life I thought that
food stamps were money
So by ten I was the mess,
got a men and then I had friend
So now I'm snatching pocket books
with Sean Wilkinson
?Get that money,
Em
D
lil nigga' that's what they told me
I never sweated props cause like my
Em
D
pops they couldn't hold me
Em
D
Until he found shorty's got it going on,
rolling on
Who told? Damn, bendecion..
The Bland man,
Em
Bm
and my pop don't give a damn
D
The day I played with matches,
took the stove to my hand
E
Hot temperature! He told me the
D
players' version
The ego in submersion for the
E
D
end of week excursion
G
Until I'm back, back on the scene
Like a ball on the green,
D
giving strokes with my team
G
And despite the commentary pop told me,
I'm lowly
And moms change- bank
can't hold me, so
D
She don't scold me, she
G
just grabs the belt
Knuckle the buckle,
tells me all about the pain she felt
D
At the precinct when a pre- teen
G
was spotted at the scene
Came up with the green,
D
not a cop could intervene
Verse 2
[Mother]
Bm
Listen here, you little motherfucker
You ain't going to fuck with me
Got me coming to this damn
D
precinct
Bm
Dammit, I'm a kick your
motherfucking ass
Shit! You ain't going to
drive me crazy
Verse 3
D
Now, happens Tori met Tom
not too long ago
He was a nigga,, yo,
he said he had the flow though
He loved a bro,
I know I didn't see you grow
To a TV show cause the nigga
said we all could go
So I'm up and out of the ghetto,
son of a gold miner
City- slicking Carolinian standing
out like Ming china
A golden bull at heart
though I moved around
The balls bounced to the bottom,
settled at a small town
G
?Hey, boy! What's your name?!' First day,
first fight
I'm out of New York and, boy,
it don't sit right if you're white
D
G
Light were my steps from there
Did my dirt on the low,
a Southern town nightmare
D
Cause the next year it was me
G
and Ef on the furlough
We were the only Queens kids but
D
there were other boroughs
With Rockwell, D- Ski,
G
Ron Duke and Freddie
D
New York was represented like
we danced for Rock Steady
Stan had tables and
G
mics, every brother nice
D
Not only could we rip and rhyme
but backspin and slice
D
With Paris and Foxy and Christina
G
P's bust
D
You know them loud,
raunchy, trouble- making niggas? That was us
D
A menace yet still I played tennis,
ain't that cruddy
Advanced with the Reeboks, they
called them ?cut buddies'
I hung with one,
only one younger brother
Shorty Doo- Wop could cut
and scratch up any other
G
Bigger than his size, was barely five feet
In ?83 broke beats
that today rock streets
D
With no one to grade it, still
G
never debated
D
Some saw and hated but they
never contemplated
D
It was the wild child with foul styles,
G
pal but not foul
A dis was never okay unless
it came before corral
D
G
Pals of mine, peoples though were down
D
I graduate next week and, yo, next
week I'm NY bound
Seven days from that one I'm leaving
love that weighs a ton
I'm going to miss you niggas, yo,
that rapping shit was crazy fun
But I'm leaving on the next bus
I've got your numbers and we'll keep in touch,
I trust
Gliding, riding back to my domain
For love and money, fuck fame,
my life will never be the same
As the next man's words, can you dig it?
I say I got a scheme,
Bm
a- yo, I gots you figured
Verse 4
Bm
[Corner]
Yo, wassup, wassup. Is money out here?
Bm
Yo, I just got a call from
that nigga Tiki
Remember that nigga Tiki?
He on his way from
D
down South
Verse 5
My real pops was a pusher,
when we left he had a section
So I keep it in the family,
or at least I make connection
With the prime figures for
affiliated support
In my purchase of cargo in the
import and export
Flushing, Queens: back when
junkies was the fiends
My childhood friends held buddha,
had babies in dreams
I took pops off my shit list
cause he had the fitness
To help Tiki get his, what the fuck,
pop? Jehovah witness
What the fuck,
pop? What's with the fizz- plop
I'm like, I can't put him down
but the shit don't stop
Worked at a law firm, for lack of fear
I wrote a resume,
spending words like a millionaire
>From there to the bank,
see the bank's down the block
So now I'm close to home, I clock, I plot
With Popote, he's my cousin
and a wily one
Though the kid was younger,
quick like thunder
With the heart to put you under
Props even, the shit can't fail
I saw Reese, bagged with Pote
and made a sale
Bm
[Co- Dee] Go
Verse 6
ahead, get that money
Get that money!
D
Bm
I ain't going to let nobody see you
I got your back, baby, I got your back
D
You want five? You only got two
Verse 7
D
On one late night, I had
made a nice amount
More than two weeks pay,
playing with the new accounts
So I rose like a petal, fuck pops,
I run with thugs
Levis, Tims, hoodie, coat,
D
skully, drugs
Fatigues before they were the fashion
Pockets with work and others
with cash in
Thought I was cool with tools and mad trap
My pops was like ?read this?
but I was like fuck that
G
So I jingle- jangled, clocked at every angle
Tiki's getting paid and his crew's
star- spangled
D
And everyday,
G
all day night, yo, whatever
Niggas on the strip in sub- zero weather
D
G
Back before the first generation of fiends
My team was sheer cream,
D
keeping dollar bills green
Fashion, Calvin cooler,
G
playing Rick the Ruler
And I can't front on nobody
D
cause I pulled on a woolah
Back in '86 first,
G
foremost and final
Rhyming on the corner,
all I want to be's on vinyl
D
I bum rush and boom bash,
G
not even for merit
Bounce out to see Reg and
Joe down on Merrick
Bm
But mostly it's the strip
that I played like a cock
On the block until the day I got
knocked
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