Goodie Mob - Still Standing Lyrics
This for the soldiers (soldiers)Stay strong my niggaz(gangsters, players)Stay up my niggaz (real niggaz)Verse one: t-moLeavin the cut in a rageLoadin up my mac, goin to my crib, to get my 12 gaugeOne of my boys just got shot, huh*****in around, in that million dollar spotA educated brotherDidnt have no money for college he was taught the street knowledgePart of the planTo keep us fightin in the street instead of becomin a strong black manEvery two weeks I see samPitchin out my check with no respect but I still dont give a damnBecaause I gotta make my doughMy kill, rocked down, til I started seein cash flowEverything happens for a reason, choose the seasonTo commit the perfect treasonWho brought me -- to the land, of unfree manTo move about and catch trout, by the dozensEven had my cousin locked down, at the feet shackledA one-way seat, to milledgevilleNigga this real, how can you kill anotherWhen its your brother? still standingVerse two: gippI never thought about, talked about what I didJust experimented life as a young gumpThem days long gone, school bells done rung no moSpendin hours at the house in my favorite chairSlow mo, custom funk fingerprinted to carry a hucklebuckFeelin stuck with the art that my skin carries, scaryIf I ever had to plot again, needin my stick? gidgets to pidgits, moves to philly and the crew?Nothin else to prove, fold a plot like chromeSalt lick teddy bears in the college students roomSpeed, gipp got that tooWatch that dude, inspect that fool, still standingChorus: all togetherUnscathed, cause this is painThis for soldiers to feelMcs, are running out of things to sayRadio stations are running out of songs to playStill standing, unscathed, cause of painThis for soldiers to feelMcs, are running out of things to sayRadio stations are running out of songs to playVerse three: khujoOn the sick side, of south central33rd avenue, block 600Workers have wash and car detailsThe eses got the fresh chevrolets for saleTwenty gs or better, the whole neighborhood tanked upWhat? on the fortress walls, there is no lettersBuddha say, the bloods are strictly outnumberedThey beseiged, on the beats, goodie mo-b, run the creepsYall can have the streets, asphault caught many suckersSlippin on wet floors, we puttin out the signsOn krokers, c-i, t-y, such a pityBein suckled dry, like a newbornOn his mommas titty before I retired I hit twentyTrue to cellulite with big ? room pesquite? on the porchPoundin, like cartoon ennis, old school effortsThrough the sunday down, crenshaw sparkinZoned out, off the ink, for lifeGoin through time and metal detectors, I cant take my weaponAnd I cant be no dope dealerCause they be done put a hit out on a nigga, plus I cant keep upWith them keys, locked in the fo-doBackseat drivers havin out-of-body experiencesWakin up, somewhere else... still standingVerse four: cee-loYeah..Each and every element that exists in thisUniverse is manifested from a thought firstThrough the inner minds eye of the unseen power in the skyGave birth to mother earth and all its worth to you and iThis most loved invention, my conciousness is an extensionOf him, yet Im flesh and bone with a mind of my ownTo dig deeper than the surface, whether I learnFrom your upcomings or your downfalls we all have individual purposeIts amazing, how the streets do the majority of raisingOf children who end up dead before hearing what you saidAnd its sad, so all I can write about is what I hadInterpretations of life good and bad with a pen and padIt seems like abortion, when I just write a small portionIts either crumpled up or torn without lettin the thought be bornYoung minded, and blinded in those days; I didnt want toHave a thought that I couldnt raise, nurture, and care forBe there for, help prepare for, the times aheadWhen someone doesnt agree with what is said, huhAnd if they did, dont get all arrogant cause thats my kidJust be thankful that its good and somebody overstoodNow, the listener in here want the same flow but I gotta let it growClever enough to let it go, if I dont wanna rap no moAnd Ill make sure that no one ever forgetsIts immortalized forever, on wax cds and casettesAnd when someone goes to the store and purchases it for tenThe life cycle starts all over againAnd I was granted this music as my soulmate, to procreateAnd give back what I was given, a life worth livinAnd i, am still standing, unscathedPain is for suckers to feelMcs are running out of things to say, andRadio stations running out of songs to play, shit!We still standing, unscathedAnd pain is for suckers to feel, huhAnd mcs running out of things to say...
