Cover art for Same Ol’ Thugs by Hell Razah & 4th Disciple

Same Ol’ Thugs

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Same Ol’ Thugs Lyrics

[Intro: Hell Razah]
Yeah, Freedom of Speech
Somethin' I gotta say to my black women
Matter fact, all the, all the race of women right now
Goin' through it with they man, holdin' them down
Knowhatimsayin', word up

[Hook: Hell Razah]
Yo, I know you tired of them same ol' thugs
I know you tired of them same ol' thugs
I know you tired of them same ol' thugs
It be them same ol' faces, in them same ol' clubs
With them same ol' drinks, and them same ol' drugs
That kick the same ol' game, just to claim your love
I know you tired of them same ol' thugs
I know you tired of them same ol' thugs

[Hell Razah]
Spiritual girl, born in the material world
Think she'd hear wisdom, instead of some pearls
Rose petal drop, he loves me, he loves me not
Sittin' in the Benz drop-top, a traffic cop
Tried to talk to her, like his game was hot
She drove off, left him standin' there with dust to cough
Miss New York, intelligent, loved to talk
She could hold a conversation with conscious thoughts
Delicate was her heart, plus her touch is soft
She don't care about a diamond ring, or what it's cost
She took a lost, last time, a nigga chain was floss
She remind of me of Diana Ross, brown and short
Excuse me, you dropped your passport, inside of the court
I could tell she was feelin' me, but playin' it off
I'm a lawyer on the third floor, I seen you before
Matter fact, I traced it back, it was up in The Source
I gotta go, here's my card, hope you need a divorce
I lit a cigarette, and laughed, and preceded to walk
[Hook]

[Hell Razah]
The second time I've seen her, it was up in Club Cheetah's
Like Solomon and Queen Ashibah, but I be cheaper
Watched her before I greet her, she kept dissin' all the fake thugs trynna meet her
Blowin' they reefer, askin' her to write down they cell phone and beeper
From here I can read her, but damn, she is a diva
A primadonna, might be an anaconda
I crept up from behind her, tapped the shoulder
She turned around, noticed it's me, played me closer
Sippin' on a cold Corona, this ain't a place for an older
Mature like woman, who stay sober, we left before the party's over
I know a better place to chill and build about our black culture... word up

[Hook]

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Credits
Produced By
Written By
Release Date
2007
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