These Are the Daze Songtext
von Trick Daddy
These Are the Daze Songtext
Heh, y′all remember back in the days
When niggaz used to get they ass whooped for snakin cars
And had to go strip your own switch off the tree
These are the days
(Chorus: Trick Daddy + (singer))
(These are the days)
These are the days (when we parlay)
When we parlayed (just me and my team)
Me and my team (out there livin our dream)
Ha, ha ha, Lord (look how far we've come)
Look how far we come (doin what we love)
Doin what we love (cause these are the days)
(Ballin, we gon′ hold on)
(Trick Daddy)
And I remember back in the days, if you ain't like a nigga
You let him know, then you asked for a fave
And then he coulda got a head up
Me and you after school in the front and we can tear it up
And everybody gon' know about it
Yep, so put down your set, and shut up, and be sho′ about it
Cause everybody done lost one
But don′t come home cryin unless your ass mind another one
And your ass better fight back
And you bet' not run and let it get back to mom
Cause, daddy ain′t made no punks (uh-uh)
And, momma ain't raised no chumps (no way)
So, go ′head for what you know
Cause a lil' childhood fight′s alright, but that's as far as it goes
Cause tomorrow we'll be best of friends
Never ever disagreein, now that′s a friend, c′mon
(Chorus w/ minor variations)
(Trick Daddy)
Now leave the guns and the crack and the knives alone
It's, T-Double on the microphone, and I can
See trouble right in front your home
Far as the kid′s concerned, let him live and learn
And let him grow to be older than us
Teach him more than gangbangin, drug deals and hold-ups
And slow up, hold that drinkin just a little bit
And when they wanna get high, just let 'em hear this
And let ′em hit it 'til they OD
Cause when they sober up, they gon′ love and respect us
Now we havin mo' doctors, lawyers
Teachers, preachers, and deep-sea explorers
C'mon
(Singer)
These are the days, Lord these are the days
These are the days (these are the days) Lord these are the days
(For the thugs)
(Trick Daddy)
Whatever happened to the momma and daddy jokes
And why you cuss so much, right in front of these old folks
That lady about seventy-five years old
That′s twice my age, and fo′ times yours
I know momma taught you better than that
Believe stuff like this'll give the ol′ girl a heart attack
Always hollerin about child abuse and child neglect
Where the hell did you get that?
Shit the last time I checked
You ever lost self-respect, you got it put on your ass for that
And it happened right there where it went wrong
Part one's now, part two′s at home
So from now on, it's yes ma′am or no sir
Put that behind you, questions and answers
Followed by thank you or no thanks
Or father may I be excused without bein rude
(Chorus w/ minor variations)
(Ad libs)
(Trick Daddy)
Hold on, so this here should teach you a lesson y'know
Kids, y'know listen to your teachers at school and
Parents, need to pay attention to your kids at home
Therefore uh, know how to be hard on a child abuser
Child neglecter, where e′rybody nobody call HRS on us
Beat they lil′ bad ass when they get out of line
That's what my momma did - fo′ sho'
Ain′t nuttin wrong with a lil' ass whuppin
The swellin gon′ go down and the bleedin gon' stop
But your ass'll be alive, I′ll bet you that
And umm, I put that on Pearl
When niggaz used to get they ass whooped for snakin cars
And had to go strip your own switch off the tree
These are the days
(Chorus: Trick Daddy + (singer))
(These are the days)
These are the days (when we parlay)
When we parlayed (just me and my team)
Me and my team (out there livin our dream)
Ha, ha ha, Lord (look how far we've come)
Look how far we come (doin what we love)
Doin what we love (cause these are the days)
(Ballin, we gon′ hold on)
(Trick Daddy)
And I remember back in the days, if you ain't like a nigga
You let him know, then you asked for a fave
And then he coulda got a head up
Me and you after school in the front and we can tear it up
And everybody gon' know about it
Yep, so put down your set, and shut up, and be sho′ about it
Cause everybody done lost one
But don′t come home cryin unless your ass mind another one
And your ass better fight back
And you bet' not run and let it get back to mom
Cause, daddy ain′t made no punks (uh-uh)
And, momma ain't raised no chumps (no way)
So, go ′head for what you know
Cause a lil' childhood fight′s alright, but that's as far as it goes
Cause tomorrow we'll be best of friends
Never ever disagreein, now that′s a friend, c′mon
(Chorus w/ minor variations)
(Trick Daddy)
Now leave the guns and the crack and the knives alone
It's, T-Double on the microphone, and I can
See trouble right in front your home
Far as the kid′s concerned, let him live and learn
And let him grow to be older than us
Teach him more than gangbangin, drug deals and hold-ups
And slow up, hold that drinkin just a little bit
And when they wanna get high, just let 'em hear this
And let ′em hit it 'til they OD
Cause when they sober up, they gon′ love and respect us
Now we havin mo' doctors, lawyers
Teachers, preachers, and deep-sea explorers
C'mon
(Singer)
These are the days, Lord these are the days
These are the days (these are the days) Lord these are the days
(For the thugs)
(Trick Daddy)
Whatever happened to the momma and daddy jokes
And why you cuss so much, right in front of these old folks
That lady about seventy-five years old
That′s twice my age, and fo′ times yours
I know momma taught you better than that
Believe stuff like this'll give the ol′ girl a heart attack
Always hollerin about child abuse and child neglect
Where the hell did you get that?
Shit the last time I checked
You ever lost self-respect, you got it put on your ass for that
And it happened right there where it went wrong
Part one's now, part two′s at home
So from now on, it's yes ma′am or no sir
Put that behind you, questions and answers
Followed by thank you or no thanks
Or father may I be excused without bein rude
(Chorus w/ minor variations)
(Ad libs)
(Trick Daddy)
Hold on, so this here should teach you a lesson y'know
Kids, y'know listen to your teachers at school and
Parents, need to pay attention to your kids at home
Therefore uh, know how to be hard on a child abuser
Child neglecter, where e′rybody nobody call HRS on us
Beat they lil′ bad ass when they get out of line
That's what my momma did - fo′ sho'
Ain′t nuttin wrong with a lil' ass whuppin
The swellin gon′ go down and the bleedin gon' stop
But your ass'll be alive, I′ll bet you that
And umm, I put that on Pearl
Writer(s): Maurice Young, Peggy Jones, Louis Johnson, Christopher Blanding, Valerie Johnson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com