Nappy Roots - O.Y.N. (Old Young Nigga) Lyrics
Oh, I’m just an old dad’s young niggaKinda smart but put on like a dumb niggaThat’d be all, who you are, where you from nigga?I know some white kids who wanna become niggasI got a gangster wife, she got a gun with ‘erI got a hell of a click that’s not one biggaI’m on the Cater & Hill, don’t let the bums get yaI’m throwin’ paper when I can but I don’t litterOh, I’m just a hustlin’ go getterFind me sittin’ down, wait me rind, no niggaApologies for my usage of the N wordI got excited, I’m just happy that I’ve been heardWord, I’m goin’ back to year ‘95With hip-hop at its best ‘fore pop diedOr ’89, full chart, they just gotta tryWhen mama said I’m sick and tired of bein’ sick and tiredI’m wild but they ain’t talkin’ Donny BrascoI’m super hype cuz I’m makin’ money back slowI’m goin’ green, e-mails, no fax homieSpeak with me, this shit is hotter than TabascoYo, my homie Dutch said go for itIf Lany Records was a pimp, I was a hoe for itThe rap game took a hit, I ran note for itTouchdown but I don’t dance, I’m an old poetPoet, in my cup till I pass outI like a neo sole chick with ‘er ass outI drive old school cars in the fast routeBorn poor, before I go I wanna cash outMoney comes and it goes but your fam stayI’d take my cuz over a billion bucks any dayHey, some cheese grits with my damn stakeDon’t mean to cuss up in the bus so I’m damn straightDamn right, it’s all to none every day and nightIf I don’t get it then somebody else around here mightIt’s like we’re just crabs in the bucketBurgundy the same wipe Stan in KentuckyTrust me, it’s the opposite of gettin’ luckyIf it wasn’t for the bad then I wouldn’t have that to bragOh, understand? Now I’m proneGotta hold it down, I’m the man of my homeGone, all the days are gettin’ byDrinkin’ liquor by the meter, just blazin’, getting’ highI would be amazed if I triedJust a lil bit harder for my sons and my daughter whyBut why not is what I got in replyAs I looked in the mirror at myself in the eyeSee you later alligator, flat suit and tieCaddy coup, peanut butter guts, now I’m super flyLike a king on the underground sceneGrip the wood in my palm but without the pinky ring cleanAs a spring in the countryIf you take a leap of faith trust the strings in the bungeeCourt, I thank the Lord that he’s workingAnd if he sees fit then everything I’m deservingI get but only in due timeI’m just a old young nigga blowed out his mind
