Three Jobs Lyrics - Sharp On All 4 Corners: Corner 1 - E-40

In the Plaza, payless shoes, got my shoes for cheap 

When my parents separated I cried for weeks 

Had a passion for music beating on my desk 

4th grade had some weed and some country club cress 

For the band momma was a mack, take me to mommas music to buy a drum pad 

What else? 

And a pair of wooden sticks with the plastic tips 

So I could practice my craft and one day get rich 

What you do? 

Got it going started rapping in the 7th 

What you hear? 

Heard Rapper's Delight: Sugarhill Gang 

Growing up, life wasn't always fair 

Moved to Magazine street, Nothing like Bel-Air 

A lot of shoot outs and fights hustling to survive 

I pray everyday I thank God I'm still alive 

A lot of my people aren't here no more they either dead or in jail or on dog food or ether blow 

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I had a paper route 

Free lunch that was me dawg 

Getting teased made me hard 

Living in the struggle 

All i know was to hustle 

And my momma had 3 jobs 

I had a paper route 

Free lunch that was me dawg 

Getting teased made me hard 

Living in the struggle 

All i know was to hustle 

And my momma had 3 jobs 

Photos 

I went from chopped ramen noodles to garlic noodles at Crustacean a little snotty nose ghetto child see people grandma free basing 

What else you see? 

Done seen it all ain't nothin much to trip me out only time when I cry is when the choir sign the missionary shout 

I send them the latest albums that slap 

The music by mail, the access secure pack 

How about that? 

Real ones be real ones my nigga if you a real one lets get these millions my nigga 

I'm with you if you off or on 

Love keeps no record of wrong 

To all my people in the struggle going through it 

Listen to 40 lyrics his music therapeutic 

It's sick out here 

Rifles big enough to kill a deer 

Blowing medicinal is traditional around these parts only thing square about me is my candy Chevy box 

Tremendous knock, or should i say slap 

Album sounds like The Thing and The Hulk in the trunk fading back there chomping 

Intersects and shootouts, bullets flying I'm from an under-sevred community bad credit and crime 

So many babies die, stuck in the middle, caught in the chaos 

Everybody got guns, anybody will knock you off 

When it rains it pours lightning and thunder I'm cool with the creator I got his cell phone number 

When you talk to him? 

I talk to him all the time when the saints go marching in I want to be in that line 

Lack of communication leads to blood spilling 

Momma always told me not to tease and laugh at special needs children 

She worked at Napa State Hospital Mental institution, Maggie's Hamburgers and Mr Jimmy's grocery store