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Solomon Childs - My Prerogative lyrics
[Intro: Solomon Childs]
 Word? Come on, man
 This is it.. this for the thugs..
 Yeah... you know?
 Like I hold New York, I got nothing but ransom
 I'm in it for the takeover, you feel me? Listen
 [Solomon Childs]
 This for niggaz round the way still pushing cookies
 The World of Shaolin, Ken Griffey at the plate, rookie
 You niggaz hood rat pussy, pardon me, Allah
 Shit, I'm still in the struggle, my team known
 For holding nine milli', gettin' round the way millies
 Octopuss, gambling in the state New York
 Daddy old school, son, hold my dick when I walk
 And I cram to understand, why brothers, don't be maxing
 You two thousand niggaz is lucky, '89 stick-up niggaz
 Started relaxing, code of the streets
 Winter time, North Faces silent with the Smith & Wesson
 I'm taught, no more adolescents, this is how the hood sound
 When we cry, a wise God told me
 Milk slows down the high, bull room therapy
 We locked in, I drop songs, that keep thugs guns coughing
 If we was mobsters, you'd be the one getting hit up
 If we was pitbulls, you'd be the one getting bit up
 Bitch, you'd get smacked up, for being out of line, kid
 We left 'em blinded, fuck a rap deal, forever be criminal minded
 Living my life, ya'll talk what ya wanna talk, I'mma live my life
 [Chorus: Solomon Childs]Solomon Childs - My Prerogative - http://motolyrics.com/solomon-childs/my-prerogative-lyrics.html
 Everybody talking, all the stuff about me
 Why can't they just let me live?
 I don't need permission, make my own decisions
 That's my prerogative
 [Solomon Childs]
 This is real life, I'm giving New York, my real life
 I got guns that split kitchen
 Got more coke head friends than Todd Bridges
 This for the holes in my momma's socks
 Listen, this rap shit don't work
 I'mma return to criminal plots
 This is tug-of-war, I hope the time stop
 This be the 25 to life in Comstock
 Four kids, who try'nna die broke?
 I'd rather see the gunsmoke, you jealous bitches
 This is ghetto life, who try'nna play me?
 Rhymes will put you on the block with me
 You can't hear I'm hungry, the motto's, by another means necessary
 You get the money, and not for nothing
 My baby mother's, think I'm some kinda dummy
 Like I'mma blow a nigga, get half of some kinda money
 That's right, it's all about me
[Chorus]
 [Outro: Solomon Childs]
 This is what a thug about...
 My hood... Body Brighton
 Yeah...








