New York streets where killers'll walk like Pistol Pete And Pappy Mason, gave the young boys admiration Prince from Queens and Fritz from Harlem Street legends, the drugs kept the hood from starving Pushing cars, Nicky Barnes was the 70's But there's a long list of high-profile celebrities Worldwide on the thorough side of things Livest kings, some died, one guy, one time One day grabs me, as I'm about to blast heat 40-side of Vernon, I turned well he asked me "What you up to, the cops gon' bust you" I was a teen drunk off brew, stumbled I wondered If God sent him, cause two squad cars entered the block And looked at us, I ain't flinch when they watched I took it upstairs, the bathroom mirror, brushed my hair Staring at a young disciple, I almost gave my life to what the dice do Yeah man, throwing them bones Hoping my ace get his case thrown His girl ain't wait for him, she in the world straight hoeing While he looking at centerfolds of pretty girls Showing they little cooch, gangstas don't die he's living proof The D.A. who tried him was lying A white dude, killed his mother during the case Hung jury, now the D.A. is being replaced Pre-trial hearing is over, it's real for the soldier Walks in the courtroom, the look in his eyes is wild Triple-homicide, I sit in the back aisle I want to crack a smile when I see him Throw up a fist for black power, cause all we want is his freedom He grabbed a court officer's gun and started squeezing Then he grabbed the judge, screams out, nobody leaving everybody Some niggas fuck they enemies in they ass when they catch 'em Weird-ass niggas are dangerous, so don't test 'em They make you, disappear, this a year that I won't forget Sold CD's double platinum, met mo' execs Southern niggas, independent label, real killers Know the business, ran Tennessee for years, now they chilling They had the coke game something crazy Sold music out the trunk of they car, that shit amazed me Put me onto heron blunts, sherm or something Took a puff, what the fuck, I turned to punch them Southern niggas ain't slow, nigga tried to play me I left from around them dudes, they cool but they crazy Now I'm back around the old school that raised me New York gangstas, we lounging, out in L.A. see A dude wrote my dawg from Pelican Bay The letter say, "Nas I got your back, the fools don't play" I rolled with some Crips down to a Crenshaw funeral Never saw so many men slaughtered and I knew the ho responsible The nigga still alive in a hospital Midnight they crept in his room and shot the doctor too See my cousin's in the game, thugging and things He plugged me with a dame who was half-Mexicano Gave the ass up, I'ma mack daddy Soprano She passed me the indigo, but the imbecile Should of never tippy-toed, thought my eyes were closed Opening the hotel room do', to let her goons in But I moved in a manner, on some Jet Li shit I let the hammers blow, wet three kids See honey thought I had something to do, with all the drama Cause I was with a crew, that had her people killed Called up my cousin, told him I ain't fucking with you He responded cool, but told me out here this how motherfuckers All I really gotta say is that If that's how our people gon' get down, how we ever gon' get up? How we ever gon' get up if that's how we get down? A shame when you ain't look at it My folk is yo' folk, but we all kinfolk Somebody gotta make a change
Written by: JAMES BROWN, FRED WESLEY, CHARLES BOBBIT, SALAAM REMI, NASIR JONES, JAMES (OUTSIDE) BROWN
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
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