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    Can-o-corn (Letra)
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Can-o-corn (Letra)

Coolio

Coolio

Curso de Violão - Fórmula Violão

Back in the days when i was a young buck
Stuck like a truck gettin shit outta luck
Times was rough and i didn’t have a plan
I was barely on the edge of my life as a man
It’s really fucked up when there’s dope in the crib
No food in the kitchen for the motherfuckin kids
That’s why a young nigga learned how to steal,see
Shopliftin laid me a whole lotta meals
But i remember days when the cupboard was bare and
Life was unfair but who the fuck cares?
I still hear momma,what she used to tell me
That you don’t get shit in this life for free
And even if i never ever make it to the mountain top
Fuck it!i fight for my hip-hop
Not everybody can relate to what i been through
Even though some front and they try to pretend to
Know about the life of a kid and the strife
Where he has to live in the shadow of a base-pipe
Good goes to bad,bad goes to worse
And pretty soon he’s stealin from his own momma’s purse
So clean out ya ears and open up your eyes
I reach out to touch but somebody moved the sky
My stomach is growlin,word is born
Cos all i had for dinner was a can-o-corn
Bridge
A can-o-corn,a can-o-corn
All i had for dinner was a can-o-corn
A can-o-corn,a can-o-corn
Before i went to school i had a can-o-corn
A can-o-corn,a can-o-corn
I tried to get full off a can-o-corn
A can-o-corn,a can-o-corn
That’s all the fuck that we had in the kitchen

A few years later,i pledge a legions to the set
I’m growin up but i ain’t grown yet
It’s funny how the strain in a life filled with pain
Can sometimes leave a bitch stained on the brain
I’m sittin in the restaurant,guardin my food like a eagle
Pickin up scraps like a seagull
Waitin on the people at the next table to leave a tip
So i can put it in my pocket
Phoney easter bunny,santa claus and the stork
We was poor as fuck so we ate a lot of pork
And it ain’t no motherfuckin way no how
When it come up i let you bring me down
So i stick to the boots and i’m down with a maad group
Of gangstas and hoodlums,but you can call em ‘scroops’
Give me liberty or give me death
Cos a man without pride ain’t got shit left,huh
And now that i’m older with kids of my own
I put me in the pot where it used to be a bone
Get’cha self together,word is born
Cos a man can’t live on a can-o-corn

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