Still Standing Lyrics by Goodie Mob

Still Standing Lyrics

    This for the soldiers (soldiers)
    Stay strong my niggaz
    (gangsters, players)
    Stay up my niggaz (real niggaz)

    Verse One: T-Mo

    Leavin the cut in a rage
    Loadin up my Mac, goin to my crib, to get my 12 gauge
    One of my boys just got shot, huh
    Fuckin around, in that million dollar spot
    A educated brother
    Didn't have no money for college he was taught the street knowledge
    Part of the plan
    to keep us fightin in the street instead of becomin a strong black man
    Every two weeks I see Sam
    pitchin out my check with no respect but I still don't give a damn
    Becaause I GOTTA make my dough
    My kill, rocked down, til I started seein cash flow
    Everything happens for a reason, choose the season
    to commit the perfect treason
    Who brought me -- to the land, of unfree man
    To move about and catch trout, by the dozens
    Even had my cousin locked down, at the feet shackled
    A one-way seat, to Milledgeville
    Nigga this real, how can you kill another
    when it's your brother? Still Standing

    Verse Two: Gipp

    I never thought about, talked about what I did
    Just experimented life as a young Gump
    Them days long gone, school bells done rung no mo'
    Spendin hours at the house in my favorite chair
    Slow mo', custom funk fingerprinted to carry a hucklebuck
    Feelin stuck with the art that my skin carries, scary
    If I ever had to plot again, needin my stick
    ?Gidgets to pidgits, moves to Philly and the crew?
    Nothin else to prove, fold a plot like chrome
    Salt lick teddy bears in the college student's room
    Speed, Gipp got that too
    Watch that dude, inspect that fool, Still Standing

    Chorus: all together

    Unscathed, cause this is pain
    This for soldiers to feel
    MC's, are running out of things to say
    Radio stations are running out of songs to play
    Still Standing, unscathed, cause of pain
    This for soldiers to feel
    MC's, are running out of things to say
    Radio stations are running out of songs to play

    Verse Three: Khujo

    On the sick side, of South Central
    33rd Avenue, block 600
    Workers have wash and car details
    The ese's got the fresh Chevrolet's for sale
    Twenty G's or better, the whole neighborhood tanked up
    What? On the fortress walls, there is no letters
    Buddha say, the Bloods are strictly outnumbered
    They beseiged, on the beats, Goodie Mo-B, run the creeps
    Y'all can have the streets, asphault caught many suckers
    slippin on wet floors, we puttin out the signs
    on krokers, C-I, T-Y, such a pity
    Bein suckled dry, like a newborn
    on his momma's titty before I retired I hit twenty
    True to cellulite with big ?room pesquite? on the porch
    Poundin, like cartoon Ennis, old school efforts
    through the Sunday down, Crenshaw sparkin
    Zoned out, off the ink, for life
    Goin through time and metal detectors, I can't take my weapon
    And I can't be no dope dealer
    Cause they be done put a hit out on a nigga, plus I can't keep up
    with them keys, locked in the fo'-do'
    Backseat drivers havin out-of-body experiences
    Wakin up, somewhere else... Still Standing

    Verse Four: Cee-Lo

    Yeah..
    Each and every element that exists in this
    universe is manifested from a thought first
    Through the inner mind's eye of the unseen power in the sky
    Gave birth to Mother Earth and all it's worth to you and I
    This most loved invention, my conciousness is an extension
    of Him, yet I'm flesh and bone with a mind of my own
    To dig deeper than the surface, whether I learn
    from your upcomings or your downfalls we all have individual purpose
    It's amazing, how the streets do the majority of raising
    of children who end up dead before hearing what you said
    And it's sad, so all I can write about is what I had
    Interpretations of life good and bad with a pen and pad
    It seems like abortion, when I just write a small portion
    It's either crumpled up or torn without lettin the thought be born
    Young minded, and blinded in those days; I didn't want to
    have a thought that I couldn't raise, nurture, and care for
    Be there for, help prepare for, the times ahead
    When someone doesn't agree with what is said, huh
    And if they did, don't get all arrogant cause that's my kid
    Just be thankful that it's good and somebody overstood
    Now, the listener in here want the same flow but I gotta let it grow
    Clever enough to let it go, if I don't wanna rap no mo'
    And I'll make sure that no one ever forgets
    It's immortalized forever, on wax CD's and casettes
    And when someone goes to the store and purchases it for ten
    The life cycle starts all over again
    And I was granted this music as my soulmate, to procreate
    and give back what I was given, a life worth livin
    And I, am Still Standing, unscathed
    Pain is for suckers to feel
    MC's are running out of things to say, and
    radio stations running out of songs to play, shit!
    We Still Standing, unscathed
    And pain is for suckers to feel, huh
    And MC's running out of things to say...

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