This has been a Goldrush production...
Shorty gonna be,
shorty wanna be,
so he's gonna be,
a straight thug
his mama was a G
and daddy was a G
ain't nothin left for him to be
but a thug
(repeat chorus)
This is a story bout a young nigga
who's mama was a whore
and his daddy was a drug dealer
Ridin' round the corner from 'em was the spot
they sold weed, lace, base, heroin and marijuana
His role model was an older nigga
who kept a wad of hundreds
cause he had a whole lot of money
Now keep in mind this is round the time that
Miami niggas was really tryin to put it down
That's back when the pimp game played out,
That next year crack cocaine came out
It all started in the suburbs
But only rich folks could afford to go and smoke that good dope
And yo they used to call it free-base,
but when it made it to my block
me and my boys called it crack rock
We used to cook it up and bag it up and sell 'em,
Nickles and dimes to any bitch that was buyin
(Chorus 2x)
And when he first hit middle school,
he was a typical, ordinary, everyday-ass dude
Around the time eighth grade came around
he had done made up his mind,
nigga can't lay down now
His first job was a watch-out,
he had to scream one time everytime the cops hit the block
We used to call him Bo Brown,
cause when he came around,
close shop nigga, shut it down
Them lil' two-hundreds,
that was a lot of money,
especially for a young nigga sittin' round not doin' nothin
Plus his mama had a newborn from an old nigga out the hood who
don't do shit for him
They go another bill, another mouth to feed,
oh well, yo a nigga couldn't stop there
he gotta keep food in his crib
and keep the lights on,
ain't like his daddy's comin' back home
Now just imagine the role of a thirteen-year-old
who's playin head of his household,
now that shit's cold,
but then again i suppose,
you already know how the shit go
(Chorus 2x)
He advanced from watch-out man to lieutenant,
and now he got two feet waist-deep in it,
And he control the whole operation,
but it's kinda different,
cause he's dealin' with some stiff competition
And everybody wants to be buddies,
all of a sudden friends but then again all they see is money
And he ain't never too flashy wit it,
not into cars and jewels,
just nice clothes and new shoes
Half of the money went straight to his mama
but the other half, you know
the kid had to keep it stashed
But it's kinda hard to hide drug money,
but it's worse bein' a dope but none of this shit's worth dying for
But when it comes to livin', money's nothin'
bein' dead is free
now tell me,
what would you rather be?
Don't tell me,
tell it to your child
make your talk worthwhile and the rest,
he'll figure it out
(Chorus)
A Motherfuckin' thug...
Nothin' left for him to be but a thug...
Motherfuckin' thug...
Nigga forced into this shit...
(Chorus 2x)
