95

I’m dark skinned so please don’t take me lightly
Stogie in my hand, begging, «Please light me»
Again, don’t this feel like '96 or '95?
It was in his hand with this dude, while I drive
Pass out in the sheets with a freak, should I creep with her?
I’m too tired, we don’t fuck, I just sleep with her
And baby momma’s still pasty
She found the rubbers in my dresser (God bless her)
Third trimester I don’t really wanna stress her
So daddy will deny her, orgasms I supply 'em
To the women that inspired all the rhymes I wrote
And kill millions of civilians with the nines I tote
I’m just young, dumb and ignorant
I couldn’t go to college so I settled to be a nigga then paper chasing
I wonder if the government formulating
This chemistry that got 'em rich niggas paper racist
It seems that I’m a goner, so I escape aromas
Of that hate with weed and marijuana
And conforming is what I’m living with
Cause you die if you different, and now I’m smoking
And don’t this feel like '95 nigga…