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What Your Life Like, Pt2 Lyrics - The Reason - Beanie Sigel

C'mon let's try this guru. 

when i was five years old, i realized it was a road 

but at the end, i ain't seen lots of pots of gold 

i seen a long cell block, the box, the hold 

six hundred fenced in - some innocent, some rotten souls 

some men with men - stop it, whoa 

i ain't runnin up in shit but a broad on her back 

tryin to cop a small hammer, move out like +shawshank+ 

with +redemptions+, i got my mind on revenges 

they tryin to kill me at the same time keep me alive 

i'm movin out like adebisi on +oz+ 

with my skully on tilt, two whacks in my palm 

posted up in the yard, everyday i think of pokin the guard 

throw a crack a nigga turnin me in 

tryin to crack a nigga turnin me thin 

food soakin in lard, news fools get opened in cards 

with (??), in this prison life, what you livin like? 

can you tell me what you live like? 

can you tell me what that bed like, what's that cell like? 

what's livin in hell like? tell me do you eat right? 

do you even sleep right? 

yo, tell me what your life like 

tell me do you sleep nights, tell me what that life like? 

gettin no kites like, no flicks like 

make you wanna quit life 

them four letters is a motherfucker 

that's forever like a motherfucker 

without a letter from a motherfucker? 

it ain't even bout the cheddar from a motherfucker 

write a kite, some flicks from a motherfucker 

some drawers, some socks, some kicks from a motherfucker 

i can't believe i'm doin this bid for you motherfuckers 

i'm down for another joker case 

i was dealt this hand, and i'ma play it with my poker face 

on the block ready to poke a face 

i got an l goin around with a smokin case? 

you steal the deoderant out of cvs, you locked for retail theft 

i got it body half a block stolen dt vest 

my rap sheet read three d abreast 

dangerous, duct tape daughters 

i take to the street, like a duck take to water 

get your duck game in order 

my bust game in order, i fluffs 'caine with water 

that's fucked up, you bout to take your longest trip 

and can't do shit, but suck it up, be strong and shit 

handcuffed, ankle to wrist, in back of the bus 

flashbacks of you back in the world 

can't fuck now you thinkin bout who in back of your girl 

got her ass up (kill this bitch) playin your crib 

thinkin bout who raisin your kids 

shit was all good a week ago, 'fore they came and raided your crib 

6: 30 in the morning, they kick your door in 

feds pour in, snatch you out your bed while you snorin 

you unaware of what's goin on and 

come to find out, clients you had for years, turned to foreman 

told the law about the drops you make 

how your clientele first started to escalate 

givin him keys to your crib, was your next mistake 

at that dinner table, breakin out that extra plate 

you can't turn a career addict off his coke habit 

put him on post with the toast that promote static 

back to the operation, they got you locked at the station 

fuck your back time, you worryin about what you facin 

heart racin, situation gettin scary 

old clients are showin up, at the preliminary 

d.a. tryin to bury a nigga to neveruary, 31st 

god damn, that gotta hurt 

 

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