(What up?)
(Rock, uh-uh)
(Yeah, yeah, okay)
(We gon' do one like this y'all)
(Uh, listen up)
We was young niggas off liquor in the street lights
Dice games, and street names, everybody tight
House parties get the mic and tell the DJ
Bullet holes in the high school hall ways
And won't fade like niggas blaze, stress all day
I'm talking Kane, KRS, Cube
Flavor Flave, Slick Rick, gold chains
Before escalators were two ways, the time a dollar split two ways
We got a little older, search for new things
Some turned out athletes some dealers, some joined gangs
Friends is enemies, women is two-faced
Spilt liquor for all my people who's now graves
Homies and cages, traps sent away for ages
Rap kept me on this track for fadin'
To my niggas on these blocks that's hot or not
These memories sometimes is all we got
Ain't nothing like memory lane, but in my head I hear my mom that said
And how many times will I told you?
You can't hang on to the past
I remember, days of kool aid stains on the shirt
The youngs squirts, run under bleachers looking up skirts
When wearing turtlenecks and overalls worked
Late for class lying (damn, where's my home work?)
For first hustling clocking a small knot
Slipping with your whole sack on you, we didn't think cops
Talk thru boxes, different color of Reebok stripe socks
Mama jokes leading to slap box
Everybody and their cousin is hip-hop
Rarely did us brothers duck strays or get shot
Still niggas on this block still having not
Sometimes these memories is all we got
Ain't nothing like memory lane, but in my head I hear my mom that said
And how many times will I told you?
You can't hang on to the past
And how many times will I told you?
You can't hang on to the past