制作
出演艺人
Lil Wayne
声乐
Mannie Fresh
编程
Raj Smoove
编程
Trill Real
声乐
作曲和作词
Byron Thomas
词曲作者
Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr.
词曲作者
Roger Dickerson II
词曲作者
制作和工程
Mannie Fresh
制作人
Raj Smoove
制作人
Brian Stanley
混音工程师
Brian Gardner
母带工程师
歌词
[Verse 1]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
This is the Carter muthafucka, yea
And in my building I must keep it real
[Verse 2]
And man I miss the times
We would shine, you would keep on your side
You would teach me how to ride
And you would teach me how to pride
Then we get on the line and go over our lines
We were in the same position
And that's when you changed position, shit
I never changed and I miss ya, and it's strange
But I never forget ya
Though that ain't you with them bitches homie
And I know that ain't you wit that dissin on me, that's why I
Never replied and never will, just let em live phony
If ya ever died, I swear to God, I got yo kids homie
What's mine is theirs, I gotta give homie, and yea
We still a army in this bitch homie
Yeah Cash Money still the shit homie, shit, homie!
What's really real, is you feelin me ****?
That Hot Boy shit still in me ****, word to giggity ****
And I ain't got time to speak the history
I miss you and I know you missin me, Gizzle, but
[Verse 3]
Man, I miss my dawgs, many nights club poppin'
Many nights we were blowin trees, many nights we were hustling
Man I miss my dawgs, me and you through thick and thin
Me and you to the very end, for only you I'll sin again
Man, I miss my dawgs, many nights club popping
Many nights we were blowin trees, many nights we were hustling
Man I miss my dawgs, me and you through thick and thin
Me and you to the very end, for only you I'll sin again
[Verse 4]
And I remember when you came to the clique
I had already made my name in the clique
But you got famous and shit
I got my soulja rag and dangled my shit
I was honored just to hang with you, shit
And I banged to the boogie-bang-bang with ya clique
And I ain't even from the 3, my hood was angry at me, shit
But I rose to my feet, played the post with the heat
At them shows while you performed and posed
I was waitin for a **** to jump, see I was patient
But was ready to dump, 'cause you my brother, chump
Real Gs never buckle up
But every family ain't filled wit gangstas that's real
And that's real and I would never turn my back
Or turn ya down, even if you turned around, muthafucka
But history is history
I miss you and I know you missin' me, Juvie, but
[Verse 5]
Man, I miss my dawgs, many nights club popping
Many nights we were blowing trees, many nights we were hustling
Man I miss my dawgs, me and you through thick and thin
Me and you to the very end, for only you I'll sin again
Man, I miss my dawgs, many nights club popping
Many nights we were blowing trees, many nights we were hustling
Man I miss my dawgs, me and you through thick and thin
Me and you to the very end, for only you I'll sin again
[Verse 6]
You was my ****, my nerve, my joy, my hurt
My main muthafuckin man Turk (Oh!)
My other, my partner, I was teacher, he was father
I skilled, he schooled, we chilled, we moved
We thug, we hung, we ate, we slept
We lived, we died, I stayed, you LEFT!
Remember how we played to the deff
And we stayed out of trouble 'cause we stayed to ourself?
'Member Slim and B would leave and the keys over?
Tell me not to go Uptown and we went straight to tha Nolia
While I watched you reunite wit yo souljas
And yo mom and brothers, while I lied to the Stunna
Yeah, those were the times my brother
Now I recognize real and I eye my brother
Yeah, ****, Semaj my brother, the Sqad's my brother
The **** you left behind is my brothers!
[Verse 7]
Man, I miss my dawgs, many nights club popping
Many nights we were blowing trees, many nights we were hustling
Man I miss my dawgs, me and you through thick and thin
Me and you through the very end, for only you I'll sin again
Man, I miss my dawgs, many nights club popping
Many nights we were blowing trees, many nights we were hustling
Man I miss my dawgs, me and you through thick and thin
Me and you to the very end, for only you I'll sin again
Written by: Bernell Jackson Quillens, Byron Thomas, D. Carter, R. Dickerson