Lost Boyz - LB Fam 4 Life lyrics

Chorus: R-MANN

And through the storm and the rain

We still together, a few things changed

Through the stress and the strife

It's LB Fam 4 Life

[Mr. Cheeks]

Since '86, man we had the streets hummin

Makin power moves and still slummin

For real, they better let us come in

LB NYG, in front of green

Niggas started jackin from the Knicks to the Lakers

Us young niggas on mountain bikes, bouncin wall downs

Burn the weed in the basement of your parents

Hookie parties was the best

They tought us niggas how to finesse the fat fatty and the chest

Now we into nickel bags, dreams about Cadillacs and Jags

We ask the S girls, the sags

Play cards for the mingles

Hit the avenue for the singles, by the new artist

Yo we never knew who God is

Yo we ran with the hardest

Tell your crew, there's no stoppin them

We risin from the bottom to the top again

The hot shit, we droppin em

Chorus

[J-Drama]

Let's take it back to '94, Lifestyles of the rich we were doin it

Made it to '97, on singles still persuadin

The flows got harder, hit you with "Love, Peace & Nappiness"

Now I can finally say my family is feeling the happiness

Even though we lost our brother through the storm and rain

Keepin it real to my hood, but now my hood is to blame

Still striving is the struggle, trying to hustle New York

I'm from Queens South Jamaica, any street that I walk

LB Fam, JnJ and Queens Most son

NY City slum, got me real close to my gun

Protectin my chest, relievin all the stress that's left

Told you in the chorus, it's LB Fam to the death

Why not, J-Drama, J-U-G-G now, Mike D now, year 2G you gonna see now

2 to 3 now, at the key now, placin D now

And at the top of the charts, is where we gonna be now

Chorus

[Jugga]

To all my go hearts, livin in mellow and live in the ghetto

From Lindon to Bellow, and rebuildin in Trestle

Hearin this fellow, affelious mellow to ignorant echo

With gun shots, plenty of fenny, each year spillin more henny and mary

Shout out 5 shuckin in the rock, back to one twenty

Yea the whole south city

I got the ghetto in me,

livin this movie script life style I aint winnin

Hear me, aint no way outta hood, but can't shoot like Penny

Block party, park jam and when the rain and lights go out

We got the generators

Go home on the three illa, mikey whippin cuz he illa

Move the bike, kill ya butt, baisley palm is familiar

Now you don't wanna go to South zone after 11

You might see the mack and feel the 11

Now you wanna catch the soprano, now the foes the bitch

Chorus