Me & My Friends

[Verse 1: Apathy]

I remember in the '90s it was all about forties and blunts

Nas cassettes, Das EFX and Reebok pumps

Punk motherf**kers that were claimin they got tecs

And rockin ski masks like Q-Tip in Hot Sex

Before them underground rappers with complex

When Mobb Deep and Jay still lived in the projects

There wasn't Escalades floodin the streets

It was all about Lexus Coupes and the Jeeps

Yup, what I wouldn't give to see it again

Doin stupid-ass shit, just me and my friends

Like callin up bitches, if (?) got pissed

We'd pop shit cause caller ID didn't exist (Click)

I can still remember dancin to Kane

Every day with Dewayne, LJ and Charmaine

Life's changed, but this is how it be till the end

Still doin dumb shit, just me and my friends

[Chorus:]

(Hey hey hey

Try to take the crew and we don't play play

Say say say) -> Lauryn Hill

It's just me and my friends

(Hey hey hey

Try to take the crew and we don't play play

Say say say)

It's just me and my friends

(Hey hey hey

Try to take the crew and we don't play play

Say say say)

It's just me and my friends

(Hey hey hey

Try to take the crew and we don't play play

Say say say)

(Goin out, just me and my crew) -> Biggie Smalls

[Verse 2: One Two]

Yo, the crew I roll with - cold as hell

We own the streets like OG's own the jails

Mack college bitches, they know us well

But now that I'm 23 I feel old as hell

Suave motherf**kers with the fliest of hoes

Peepin bitches (Yo Ap, keep your eyes on the rooooad)

Nothin's really changed, we work fast on it

Since hats with silver plaques that said 'RAP' on it

Ignorant little punks provokin a fight

Kinda like stickin a pipe through the spokes of your bike

Cruisin down Franklin, tappin the brakes

Hey yo Rube, put that dutch down, we passin the jakes

Spot didn't get hot or jump until we came

A fridge full of forties like Nuthin' But a 'G' Thang

Rap pack of Godz and we willin to pop

And stick together like waffles when they still in the box

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Celph Titled]

You couldn't tell me nothin back in '92 when I was wildin, duke

Rockin British Knights, gold chains and Cross Colors suits

Me and Joey boostin bikes out of front yards

We'd smack you up just for doin nothin, we was dumb hard

Known from Armenia Ave and back down to Egypt

Like in Tampa you either showin your balls or you don't show your face

Strictly Miami Bass hits playin from Disco Rick

And gangsta shit from the Geto Boys, they minds was playin tricks

We used to load up at Manuel's then

And launch bottle rockets at people's houses until we'd burn our hands

I gotta manage the jam, I remember like, "Damn

I'm so proud to be a hip-hop fan"

Started makin beats and writin raps, that's when the bug got in me

Flipped out when my man [Name] pulled an armed robbery

I ain't seen him since he went to prison, wonder how he's livin

Heard he's out the pen, so one love to you my old friend

[Chorus]