Take A Look Around Letra

One Dae

Daes & Times

Letra de Take A Look Around
I know this dude named Eddy
Had a semiautomatic tech and a machete
Used to cop wait for him
Who? He was friendly
Had the same beef with this dude I wanna bury
African cat, told him how to smoke ganja
Funny style and fucked up head
His head was bogus
He tried to play me on some hating on day shit
Sucker punch right down in the face
I ran away quick
My man Jason just sat there
He didn't chase him
I'm like what the fuck,
You let him get away, son?
My finger in the air like
All y'all is gay, son
The reason why I been One Dae since day one
This whole time this Portorican bitch
Laughing at my bloody lip
Lucky I ain't slap on some ugly shit
Thought that she was in the whip
Trip, that's a funny shit
Last week I holler at this bitch and some other chick


Take a look around, this is my life
These are my friends,
Wander why I'm holding a knife?
This is a gun, you wonder why I'm pocking it back?
This where I live, you wonder why I'm talking like that?

I went to school with this dude, Black Larry
Used to cut class, burn hells, he was pallie
Even wrapped with his fat cousin, and fat buggin'
Fat gold chain, he like "man, what you pumping?"
I'm like "what, yo? I ain't a punk", so we laughin'
He wasn't really cool like that
It was just rappin'
The One Dae, aye, yo, bustin', what happen?
His cousin, Stocky Brian, Spanish Mickey with glasses
Try getting tough with me, cause they knew I had my stuff with me
But I ain't even cut a gutter for a buck fifty
I try back and I'm down with one hand
Brian start swingin' his hands, nothin' land
I duck one, turn around and I look
Little Mickey grab my book bag
Shooking it up, damn, you motherfuckers get ... in school
Lucky you ain't seen me creein' in an ... with tools


Knew this Damien, flap top cat, a cool character
Q P's and Berkeley cheap, go get a gat for ya
I used to meet him south station to Ashmouth
Damien was like Wolverine, hiding his stash paw
I knew it, but I never was one to listen to it
I bought sisty with no crew
What the fuck I'm doin'?
I see my man Shawn, he usually call
From fifth grade, but today he look unusually awed
Face drain, like he got a lot f shit on his brain
He didn't even say what's up
He didn't see me, but hey
I didn't really think it's nothing, kept steadily steppin'
Next day I found out he put a skep to his melon
Heard he called his man Jahmills with the funny arms boggin'
Counted backwards from ten, and then he bucked it
Now that's some fuck shit
he wasn't the type
To be ball cat, thirty, go pro, that's nice