The Corner, Pt. 2

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Trav Da Poet, Classix The Writer

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Cruising on my skateboard
Unsure why I bottle all this hate for
My heart big and my face warm
But my anger is way too strong, oh
And this corner is way too small, oh

Pull up at Jet's around 7 o'clock
Need to express some slick shit so I slide on the mic
I'm thinking out of the box
Sometimes I be so uptight
Until these sounds travel faster than the speed of light
Wrote a remix for just for Tyler's album
But I need Hinata here so she can smear like Picasso
It's weird when she's not home beside me
Heading from the BX to come & find me
Her DNA like TSA, the only one as fly as me
I write her 3 minutes into my versuz w/ Jet
Trav, Classix, and Ken
Regulate how we spin
Best out of 10 wins
We dumb it down to 5
We played some classic tracks full of classic rhymes
Magical times wishing I could revisit
Everything is so different
The beginning I write and read lyrics
Through the Nas's and DOOM's Logic's and Lu's of this shit
Now I'm a hue light up the room when I spit
It's 9:02 where's my boo cuz it's lit
The song calling my name
She calling me late told me she on the J
Only problem is the car she in this Man is acting strange
Bae I don't feel safe she fed me rage
Cuz all I heard was my favorite girl in pain
I left my board with no reason to skate
Don't wanna picture her murdered or raped
That shit just filled me w/ rage
Just take the villain away
I'm the nigga that needs to be in a cage
I'm grabbed my blade ready to make some edits to his face
Kill him dead, leave a trace
Hear my breath, heart race
Through my chest, I keep wondering
Since she hung up he tried to touch her or another chick
The crew is deep tryna get through to me before there's blood & shit
He deserve it, my shawty's worth it
They told me nothing is

Cruising on my skateboard
Unsure why I bottle all this hate for
My heart big and my face warm
But my anger is way too strong, oh
And this corner is way too small, oh

Sitting on the stoop sipping Sprite eating chips
Reminiscing on troops, street politics in the mix
Blocks busted, Bushwick bullies in the bricks
Smiling while frowning, Brooklyn was really lit
Calm night, New York chill but still serene
Twinkle in the sky, a sign from the lost team
To live a life worth something, focus on the dreams
Swiftly interrupted by footsteps stomping the street
Six steppers scowling, looking for trouble
The ring leader's full of rage with hands on a muzzle
Or a blade ready to cut a fade or slice a face
Buck 50, purchase blood, keep the change
Hoodie's down, ready to kill, Trayvon's revenge
Bandana over the forehead to conceal his sins
While his team forms like a swarm of killer bees
Death's in the air, walking dead, such a Thriller scene
Sweating profusely, past memories breach mental dams
When I was wild, unafraid of trial, not giving a damm
I was spared from fatal consequences
Survivor's guilt plagues my consciousness
As I throw the chip bag in the trash and head inside
Can tossed in the recycle, letting out a sigh
Prayers to the sky hoping no mourners come through
Unfortunate reality of things on the corner too

Cruising on my skateboard
Unsure why I bottle all this hate for
My heart big and my face warm
But my anger is way too strong, oh
And this corner is way too small, oh

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