O.g. Talk lyrics

Artist  : Guru 
Song : O.g. Talk



 Send "O.g. Talk" Ringtone to your Cell 

 feat. Don Parmazhane, Tef
[Hook: Guru] - 2X
Used to run with the older dudes
That's how I know the rules
Notice how these fools talk gats but can't hold
the tool
What I know is true, I do what I'm supposed to do
Open you, you kids ain't sposed to speak till ya
spoken to

[Tef]
Tell me what the f**k a hood do to make a young
buck get dumbstruck
By the sight and the sound when the gun bust
Nigga tell me how to, f**k I know the smell of
gunpowder
So well that when the shell spits sniffin it'll
rouse ya
Why you send me like this to live a life with
such malice
In the streets bound by the vows of marriage
To the game, I'm a hustler
Shellshocked from lettin the shells pop from the
muffler
Get knocked, get bailed, with the bell heart just
to touch ya
f**k ya, I done paid all my dues in spades
and know the tools of the trade
Nigga f**k the police, I done spent life up in
the streets
Ain't got plans for comin up in this peice
To give a nigga, every side of my struggle
To show y'all mothaf**kas all the real ill sh*t
they put a thug through
And they wonder why I let my pants hang, f**k
with hoodrats
Cheap nigga and won't give up a God-damn thang

[Hook: Guru] - 2X

[Guru]
I sat by the door, but never call me a spoof
Go head and, call on ya troops, we'll have you
callin a truce
I got here on pure guts, carve diamonds with pure
cuts
Still the king of underground, you toilet tissue,
pure butt
And just incase you wanna spread rumors
Me and Tef'll give you lead to the head tumors
 
Used to rock blue and red Pumas
I went to Farrakhan speak when I was 12 years old
He said, 'Create your own job, know yourself,
don't fold'
My uncle Clarence, rest in peace and do your
music
For Giovanni, rest in peace, I hear guns in the
Buick
Big Shug told me, 'Boy you know we got talent'
I was always wylin, still iller than the most
violent
From O.G. pimps, businessmen, to jazz niggaz
I learned how to, think past niggaz, and how to
outclass niggaz
Your buggin dukes, yeah I know you got thug in
you
And I got love for you, but all that sh*t ain't
nothin new

[Hook: Guru] - 2X

[Don Parmazhane]
This can only get old, swear to God I was born in
the ghetto
Where fiends fight all night, dogs bite like
pedal
Been on the streets and yo, I shoulda worked the
hustle then left
Twenty years old, 100 G's on the set
Tell me how long, must I take this struggle
All I know is to hustle, livin in this
never-endin struggle
Why, problem after problem, cope with one half
then doubles
Blast with hot glocks and whoop nigga'z as* with
knuckles
f**k the hard times, protect the jewels that the
dog mined
Niggaz get stupid, so my nines stay cocked at all
times
Going to court, for assault with the chrome nine
You 'bout it?' Now you in jail, you bout to hold
mine
Feel like I been to Hell four times
Fightin with the mothaf**kin demon, I can't see
him cuz I'm so blind
He spoke to me, in a voice that was so calm
Said I was dead already, killed by my own kind

[Hook: Guru] - 2X