The Hard Way - JT The Bigga Figga

It’s a hot summer day in the year of 84'

Fresh out of summer school headed for the store

Watchin the O.G.'s standing out gettin rich

Slangin the fat brown bags of the good shit

Dope is out but I really ain’t seen it though

Dope fiends smokin the shit by the corner store

Broke as fuck kinda bummy with nappy hair

But what can I say when a playa’s on welfare

Life is hard and I’m only 13

Always on a prowl, always on a scheme

There wasn’t nothin to do but have fun

Wait for the dark then creep to Emporium

Get the T.I., get the Guess shirts

Get the fresh couch break for the turf

Doin it boley never in fear

Gettin they punk ass for about a year

Until I got called, went to the hall

Writin on the wall, waitin for a hair call

Released to moms, what can I say

Off to Sears, the very next day

Now Sears is easier cuz it’s in the area

Walk to the back of the rack then carried the

Shit back to the stolen car

Drive and park by the house is not too far

My gear was fat but still no money though

Talked to my homey then got fronted so

Stackin my shit, hustlin cash

Gotta get out, gave him his half

Hooked up with a friend oh we started boomin

Then we go to some O’s then I went solo

Stackin my pay gettin it on

Got myself a beeper and a cellular phone

A donkey roll, a twenty-two

Jumped on my bike, headed for school

Locked up my shit, cuz the fools be gankin

A young nigga pimpin that Benjamin Franklin

So I walked the halls, wishin the Merrier

Hooked up with a freak by the cafeteria

Hair was long, pretty with butt

I told the freak I was about to cut

So call me at eight and don’t be late

When I left the school there was a big mistake

So I jumped on my bike and headed for the set

With a pocketful of rocks ah man I regret

For not stayin in school, for just doin my work

Gettin chased by the Task now I feel like a jerk

So I’m on the run and I better run fast

Cuz if I don’t they’re gonna beat my ass

Hit a quick cut, run by the Ave.

Go to the Valley you know I gotta laugh

Jogged to the third floor runnin the dope spot

A playa too quick a young brotha can’t get caught

Bitch want credit better go to the bank

Then my homey walked in with the straight-laced dank

Two young playas gettin high on the couch

In a spot, at a dope fiend’s house

Two hours passed now it must be cool