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Fes Taylor
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Be Free
f/ Mr. Prezident
[Fes Taylor] I could give you my pain, I could give you my joy I'm Santa Claus givin' toys to my little boy Little things like that be my only way to escape Behind gates, feelin' like I'm trapped In the place I was dealin', I was strapped When I lay, face to the ceilin' and knealin' on the cracks In the concrete, try and make a million off of rap Way back, I was lookin' for a sack like Sev In the hood on the corner smokin' weed all day Talked with fiend out for $10 and he don't pay Ill how we went from Impalas to CLKs I blow a couple of dollars at MIA Feel good to get away, when you livin' in drama From the wars on the street to beef with ya baby mama I had to seperate so I had to put a comma In a sentence, like Osama waitin' in the trenches
[Chorus: sample (Fes Taylor)] Got drama, still wanna... (Be free and live my life for me Feel pain when I write to beats Live my life on the streets Up nights to get a bite to eat)
[Mr. Prezident] I think about them days, breakin' Dave, pullin' straight nights Always go to straight white tryin' get my cake right Rip through worse than that, baby need new shoes Did what I had to do, how could you be mad at dude? Shorty had an attitude, I could see her heart ache Now I'm jammed up between a rock and a hard place I was just a young buck, grindin', tryin' to come up Life was like a dice game, I would press my dumb luck Flirtin' with death, I was carryin' the heat I was in love with her but I was married to the streets She tried to tell me slow up, I would scream 'For what?' She replied 'Grow up, if not for you, for us' Now I think about our life together Even though I like good cheddar, I like her better Don't tell her cuz I guaranteed she wouldn't get this I'm married to the game and the streets is my mistress
[Chorus]
[Fes Taylor] Yo, strugglin' to take it, bubblin' in places When my homies caught a couple of cases Ain't growin' up, I had to tustle with racists After school fightin', I was scuffin' my A6 My life like a movie and it's only on take six My moms always told me 'Son, it is what you make it People try to tell you you ain't shit Cuz they don't wanna see you do better than they did, it's hatred' Yo, look at the way that they raised kids It's like the next generation, headed right for a grave, kid Penitentiary remind you what a slave is Whole mentality'll change around when you caged in Women is judged by dimes and quarters That's why I'm scared to have me a daughter It's like we sayin' that they worth way less than a dollar Like 'Hey ma' and expect 'em to holla I'm just bein' real...
[Chorus]
[various chatter to fade]
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