Me & My Friends - Apathy, Celph Titled, One Two

I remember in the '90s it was all about forties and blunts

Nas cassettes, Das EFX and Reebok pumps

Punk motherfuckers that were claiming they got TECs

And rockin ski masks like Q-Tip in Hot Sex

Before them underground rappers with complex

When Mobb Deep and Jay still lived in the projects

There wasn’t Escalades flooding the streets

It was all about Lexus Coupes and the Jeeps

Yup, what I wouldn’t give to see it again

Doing stupid-ass shit, just me and my friends

Like calling up bitches, if they fathers got pissed

We’d pop shit cause caller ID didn’t exist (Click)

I can still remember dancing to Kane

Every day with Dewayne, LJ and Charmaine

Life’s changed, but this is how it be till the end

Still doing dumb shit, just me and my friends

(Hey hey hey, try to take the crew and we don’t play play, say say say)

It’s just me and my friends

(Hey hey hey, try to take the crew and we don’t play play, say say say)

It’s just me and my friends

(Hey hey hey, try to take the crew and we don’t play play, say say say)

It’s just me and my friends

(Hey hey hey, try to take the crew and we don’t play play, say say say)

(Dumbing out, just me and my crew)

Yo, the crew I roll with — cold as hell

We own the streets like OGs own the jails

Mack college bitches, they know us well

But now that I’m 23 I feel old as hell

Suave motherfuckers with the fliest of hoes

Peepin bitches (Yo Ap, keep your eyes on the rooooad)

Nothin’s really changed, we work fast on it

Since hats with silver plaques that said 'RAP' on it

Ignorant little punks provokin a fight

Kinda like stickin a pipe through the spokes of your bike

Cruisin down Franklin, tappin the brakes

Hey yo Rube, put that dutch down, we passin the jakes

Spot didn’t get hot or jump until we came

A fridge full of forties like Nuthin' But a 'G' Thang

Rap pack of Godz and we willin to pop

And stick together like waffles when they still in the box

You couldn’t tell me nothing back in '92 when I was wilding duke

Rocking British Knights, gold chains and Cross Colors suits

Me and Joey boosting bikes out of front yards

We’d smack you up just for doing nothing, we was dumb hard

Known from Armenia Ave and back down to Egypt

Like in Tampa you either showing your balls or you don’t show your face

Strictly Miami Bass hits playing from Disco Rick

And gangsta shit from the Geto Boys, they minds was playing tricks

We used to load up at Manuel’s then

And launch bottle rockets at people’s houses until we’d burn our hands

«I Got A Man» was the jam

I remember like, «Damn!

I’m so proud to be a hip-hop fan»

Started making beats and writing raps, that’s when the bug got in me

Flipped out when my man pulled an armed robbery

I ain’t seen him since he went to prison, wonder how he’s living

Heard he’s out the pen, so one love to you my old friend