Notorious B. I. G. - Things Done Changed lyrics

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Verse one:<br><br>Remember back in the days, when niggaz had waves<br>Gazelle shades, and corn braids<br>Pitchin pennies, honies had the high top jellies<br>Shootin skelly, motherfuckers was all friendly<br>Loungin at the barbeques, drinkin brews<br>With the neighborhood crews, hangin on the avenues<br>Turn your pagers, to nineteen ninety three<br>Niggaz is gettin smoked g, believe me<br>Talk slick, you get your neck slit quick<br>Cause real street niggaz ain't havin that shit<br>Totin techs for rep, smokin blunts in the project<br>Hallways, shootin dice all day<br>Wait for niggaz to step up on some fightin shit<br>We get hype and shit and start lifin shit<br>So step away with your fist fight ways<br>Motherfucker this ain't back in the days, but you don't hear me though<br><br>Verse two:<br><br>No more cocoa leave-io, one two three<br>One two three, all of this to me, is a mystery<br>I hear you motherfuckers talk about it<br>But I stay seein bodies with the motherfuckin chalk around it<br>And I'm down with the shit too<br>For the stupid motherfuckers wanna try to use kung-fu<br>Instead of a mac-10 he tried scrappin<br>Slugs in his back and, that's what the fuck happens<br>When you sleep on the street<br>Little motherfuckers with heat, want ta leave a nigga six feet deep<br>And we comin to the wake<br>To make sure the cryin and commotion ain't a motherfuckin fake<br>Back in the days, our parents used to take care of us<br>Look at em now, they even fuckin scared of us<br>Callin the city for help because they can't maintain<br>Damn, shit done changed<br><br>Verse three:<br><br>If I wasn't in the rap game<br>I'd probably have a key knee deep in the crack game<br>Because the streets is a short stop<br>Either you're slingin crack rock or you got a wicked jumpshot<br>Shit, it's hard being young from the slums<br>Eatin five cent gums not knowin where your meals comin from<br>And now the shit's gettin crazier and major<br>Kids younger than me, they got the sky grand pagers<br>Goin outta town, blowin up<br>Six months later all the dead bodies showin up<br>It make me wanna grab the nine and the shottie<br>But I gotta go identify the body<br>Damn, what happened to the summertime cookouts? <br>Everytime I turn around a nigga gettin took out<br>Shit, my momma got cancer in her breast<br>Don't ask me why I'm motherfuckin stressed, things done changed