Mc Ren Old Times lyrics

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Old Times by Mc Ren Old Times lyrics [Intro: MC Ren Talking] oooh baby, yeah ooooh baby, it's goin' down oooooh baby, puff your blunts fuck your bitch, drink your drank, I'm ready oooooh baby, oooooh baby, oooooh baby [Verse 1: MC Ren] we was some young niggaz seen the ballers do it I said fuck that, it's time for 'Ren to do it so me and my nigga Chip Dirty stayed out for everynight till like two: thirty servin clocks, mothafuckin' young niggas roll in them trucks with laces bitches with the fine-Ass-Faces I said I gotta be down, a teenage black mothafucker from the Compton got thirty bucks and I double it up see them cluckheads I'm yellin' what the fuck up we got planty chips, get his bitch a fuckin' twenty we're gettin' rich better tell this bitch we fucked the police pioneers hustling, pay bang crease peace to my nigga Train, Rest In Peace you nigga outdoin' it big, wish you was here puffin' on this blunt nigga sippin' some Beer still Compton nigga, you was my dogg we went to school together then we two and forever this little young niggaz don't know, this shit is personal loosin' nigga that you know, you about to go through it this shit I have you gone, then pray to your God I have your ass in the corner cursin' your Gat keep your head up, homey just remember the Villain smoke weed, get your money nigga, fuck and be chillin... [Chorus:] Old times, there was no better day just keepin' it real Old times, there was no better way that's just how I feel [Verse 2: Bigg Rocc] you know how we do it never gangsters around here been bangin' that Compton shit for twenty years "uhh" I had niggaz died, some with twenty five some smoke dive in the hood tryin' to survive in the ghetto but shit be hard for the overage "yeah" niggaz gotta have a job and a sack to have it take any chance, cause you only'll get one so you make what you can you suppose to be a man and run shit shut niggaz down when they turn bitch, or turn snitch bury mothafuckers quick, this is the life I live the rider nigga chose forgive for my sin in this world so cold so step the fuck back while I lay this fat track I'm origin-al like that DJ Scratch I blast the weak up off the Bout "Uhh" Bigg Rocc, John Doe, nigga like that, Old Times... [Chorus] [Verse 3: John Doe] Lodi dodi, we like to party We don't cause trouble, we don't bother nobody it's, just John Doe up on the Mic And when we rock up on the Mic too late it's a gun fight now you can call it ignite but we continue, to find somethin' else to get into Like some pussy, or infact "a bum rush" A bum rush, but we call that rat pack Gangster Gangster that's what we yellin' how we made it new Compton no tellin' sold crack out my house, yeah puffs was on it "uha" Rest In Peace to my mamms, kept the nigga up on it she know what I was doin, still had my back she even lied on standin to keep a nigga in jack you point a finger at me, you need to check yourself "uha" we had nothin' in the fridge, fool I had to live... [Chorus x3]

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