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1970 Somethin

The Game
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1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something Nineteen-seventy-something, nigga, I don't sweat the date My moms was late, so I had to plan my escape Out the skins, in this world of fly girls Tanqueray and Hennessy until I called Earl Ten months in this gut, what the fuck? I wish moms would hurry up so I can get buck Wild, juvenile, whipping mics and shit New York, New York, ready for the likes of this? Then came the worst date, May 21st 2:19 Is when my mama water burst No spouse in the house, so she rolled for self To the hospital to see if she could get a little help Umbilical cords wrapped around my neck I'm seeing my death and I ain't even took my first step I made it out, I'm bringing mad joy The doctor looked and said, "He's gonna be a bad boy" 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something Would 'Pac be alive if you let 'Pac drive? Swear to God, to reverse it I'd give my left eye With the right, I visualize the King of Bed-Stuy Checking his daughter T'yanna into junior high If I was in Brooklyn and B.I. was still alive In 2006, it might sound like this NY 718s, 212s Where Sue's rendezvous is like Moulin Rouge High fashion, uptown Air Force Ones And Vasqueze, Puerto Ricans with fat asses Blaze Dutch Masters, we dump ashes On models in S-Classes for you bastards Catch a cab to Manhattan with that Broadway acting You hike that belly shit, I'll get you capped and wrapped in plastic Tell the Captain, "Ask Rog' what's happening" I hear nor speak no evil inside the Magnum 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something Now I'm 13, smoking blunts, making cream On the drug scene, fuck the football team Risking ruptured spleens by the age of 16 Hearing the coach scream, make my lifetime dream I mean, I wanna blow up, stack my dough up So school, I didn't show up, it fucked my flow up Moms said that I should grow up and check myself Before I wreck myself, disrespect myself Put the drugs on the shelf, nah, couldn't see it Scarface, king of New York, I wanna be it Rap was secondary, money was necessary Until I got incarcerated, kinda scary C-74 Mark VIII set me straight Not able to move behind the great steel gate Time to contemplate, damn, where did I fail? All the money I stacked was all the money for bail 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something 1970-Something