paroles de chanson LB Fam 4 Life - Lost Boyz
Chorus:
R-MANN
And
through
the
storm
and
the
rain
We
still
together,
a
few
things
changed
Through
the
stress
and
the
strife
It′s
LB
Fam
4 Life
[Mr.
Cheeks]
Since
'86,
man
we
had
the
streets
hummin
Makin
power
moves
and
still
slummin
For
real,
they
better
let
us
come
in
LB
NYG,
in
front
of
green
Niggas
started
jackin
from
the
Knicks
to
the
Lakers
Us
young
niggas
on
mountain
bikes,
bouncin
wall
downs
Burn
the
weed
in
the
basement
of
your
parents
Hookie
parties
was
the
best
They
tought
us
niggas
how
to
finesse
the
fat
fatty
and
the
chest
Now
we
into
nickel
bags,
dreams
about
Cadillacs
and
Jags
We
ask
the
S
girls,
the
sags
Play
cards
for
the
mingles
Hit
the
avenue
for
the
singles,
by
the
new
artist
Yo
we
never
knew
who
God
is
Yo
we
ran
with
the
hardest
Tell
your
crew,
there′s
no
stoppin
them
We
risin
from
the
bottom
to
the
top
again
The
hot
shit,
we
droppin
em
Chorus
[J-Drama]
Let's
take
it
back
to
'94,
Lifestyles
of
the
rich
we
were
doin
it
Made
it
to
′97,
on
singles
still
persuadin
The
flows
got
harder,
hit
you
with
"Love,
Peace
& Nappiness"
Now
I
can
finally
say
my
family
is
feeling
the
happiness
Even
though
we
lost
our
brother
through
the
storm
and
rain
Keepin
it
real
to
my
hood,
but
now
my
hood
is
to
blame
Still
striving
is
the
struggle,
trying
to
hustle
New
York
I′m
from
Queens
South
Jamaica,
any
street
that
I
walk
LB
Fam,
JnJ
and
Queens
Most
son
NY
City
slum,
got
me
real
close
to
my
gun
Protectin
my
chest,
relievin
all
the
stress
that's
left
Told
you
in
the
chorus,
it′s
LB
Fam
to
the
death
Why
not,
J-Drama,
J-U-G-G
now,
Mike
D
now,
year
2G
you
gonna
see
now
2 to
3 now,
at
the
key
now,
placin
D
now
And
at
the
top
of
the
charts,
is
where
we
gonna
be
now
Chorus
[Jugga]
To
all
my
go
hearts,
livin
in
mellow
and
live
in
the
ghetto
From
Lindon
to
Bellow,
and
rebuildin
in
Trestle
Hearin
this
fellow,
affelious
mellow
to
ignorant
echo
With
gun
shots,
plenty
of
fenny,
each
year
spillin
more
henny
and
mary
Shout
out
5 shuckin
in
the
rock,
back
to
one
twenty
Yea
the
whole
south
city
I
got
the
ghetto
in
me,
Livin
this
movie
script
life
style
I
aint
winnin
Hear
me,
aint
no
way
outta
hood,
but
can't
shoot
like
Penny
Block
party,
park
jam
and
when
the
rain
and
lights
go
out
We
got
the
generators
Go
home
on
the
three
illa,
mikey
whippin
′cause
he
illa
Move
the
bike,
kill
ya
butt,
baisley
palm
is
familiar
Now
you
don't
wanna
go
to
South
zone
after
11
You
might
see
the
mack
and
feel
the
11
Now
you
wanna
catch
the
soprano,
now
the
foes
the
bitch
Chorus
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