'94 (feat. Mannie Fresh, Bonka & Chedda)

Waaaaaah

It was 1994, it was muddy out there

We had drug lords, we had Ziggy

We had goddamn Kool-Aid with different flavors

Bitches putting Kool-Aid in their hair

All kinds of shit

First of all, you **** playing basic ball

Old school, tore the motherfucking roof off

I got stripes like Adidas

And I saw more base than Derek Jeter

I got it popping like Crisco

The platinum kush has got me high like the tenth floor

Who got work and who got jack?

I got these motherfuckers hollering like 2Pac's back

I'm back like I left my phone

And these bitches came back just to give me dome

And I put five on that 28, just like Slim did

And I put twenty on your head, bitch, you been dead

I been doing numbers like it's '94

Running through the money, watch it come and go

I'ma do it better than I did before

Got a ticket on the bricks, man, they stupid low

I been doing numbers like it's '94

Running through the money, watch it come and go

I'ma do it better than I did before

Got a ticket on the bricks, man, they stupid low

The block jumping for real

Soon as I leave, this bitch block music coming for real

I got deals on the yay, motherfuck a rap deal

Hope they don't catch me slipping and I pray nobody squeal

Some **** hate a lot, some **** hate a little

You ain't supposed to hate at all, man, just let a **** live

You gotta stop with the dickriding and the switchsiding

Real diamonds over here, you see my shit shining

Fake diamonds over there, I see your shit trying

I could get the diamond tester now, ****, stop lying

Can't wait 'til I make it and could shit all on my old ho

Pull up on a bad bitch, add with some coco

I been doing numbers like it's '94

Running through the money, watch it come and go

I'ma do it better than I did before

Got a ticket on the bricks, man, they stupid low

I been doing numbers like it's '94

Running through the money, watch it come and go

I'ma do it better than I did before

Got a ticket on the bricks, man, they stupid low

Remember Meatball? Remember Nat?

Every darkskin **** nickname was Black

When you felt played, **** had to bust back

Around that time, **** started calling guns gats

Catholic school bitches hanging out in the projects

Seven ball good hair **** doing acrobatics

Flipping coke, dope and truck fits and weed by the pound

Tryna make a mill 'fore the sun go down

And the DJ, yup, the DJ

**** copy every fucking thing that we say

Like, "I need some heroin, baby"

"Them New Orleans dudes kinda crazy"

I been doing numbers like it's '94

Running through the money, watch it come and go

I'ma do it better than I did before

Got a ticket on the bricks, man, they stupid low

I been doing numbers like it's '94

Running through the money, watch it come and go

I'ma do it better than I did before

Got a ticket on the bricks, man, they stupid low

In 1994, New Orleans

In the Calliope, **** got they issue

In the St. Bernard, **** got they issue, you heard me?

In the Lafitte, **** got they issue, you heard me?

In the St. Thomas, **** got they issue

Bitches had on Daniel Greens and Polos

With Kool-Aid flavors in their hair

That's how gangster it was

Food stamps rule, 1994

Get it, bitch