5 Cent (Feat. Rosie J) | Tha Flava (1993)

Chillin', Thinkin about the days when i was a young buck
My homies used to tell me to come up
Seeing that I was talented, I was feeling more like a 
Broke tray, So I left Pomona eager to check a phat grip
Hopped into my riben Nissan and hit the road
In my pickup, by all means I was makin a quick buck
Went from Texas to Oklahoma then I hit Michigan
And had to go back to Texas again
Rumors of being dead or dug out in the penitentiary
A false punk, you should have been with me
Taking that long trip, (Back Down Memory Lane!),
Bailing In a Nissan, cuz now im back in a 911
Slanted, squaded, bumpin so hard the deaf people
Hear me tho, but now home don't feel like home no mo'
My own homies turned fake, some of the people that never like me
Bring me demo tapes talkin about, hook me up
Can you help me out G? You would be the same ones in my 
Neighborhood talkin about me, buggin' me on my mobile phone
I guess it's supposed to feel good
To be home sweet home

So now I got the hoochies (The Hoochies!)
The hoochies on my tip, first come first serve
I used to trip, cuz wasn't you the one that always stood me up?
Kicked me to the curb cuz i drove a Nissan truck
So how does it feel to be a hoochie? slash hooker, slash trick
Cuz yo I wouldn't go up in it if I had a prayer with it
Cuz im the same dark tone, chocolate coated nigga
Nothing changed but the weather 
And my pockets got a little bigger, besides hoochies tryna play me
I got homies tryna steal from me and dope brothas
Keepin deals from me, making hard earned money
And got good credit, bought a pimped out crib
Now all of a sudden im big headed
Now when I was broke and used to come and kick it
Bummin for spare change, starving and wasnt nothing wrong with it
But since I tried to make a name for myself, I guess im wrong
For coming back to home sweet home

Some of the homies still got my back, proud cuz
They see a brother rollin, but all that rollin
Got my Porsche stolen, garage doors wide open
Now ain't that a fucking trip? I got a neighborhood watch
That didn't see shit, fifty thousand dollars down the drain
And nobody cares neither, but I still got two benzes and
A beemer, waitin for a nigga to get brave with a chrome .45
A glock and a 12 gauge and a trained body in my back yard
Livin' life silky while protected, hoping all you skanless
Niggas get the message, so we can stop knockin niggas out at 
Pool party's, or watching my back or suing
For a stolen track, My mama used to always tell me that misery 
Wants company, I just ain't the one to be played with
Cuz if I got to be played, I rather be left alone
Damn, home sweet home

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