Lyrics:
to the crib, don't make a sound
Shoutouts on my block brings peace to my soul
Shoutouts on my block brings peace to my soul
Shoutouts on my block, shoutouts
when I see the cops
Hold 2 much chief, got keef in my sneak, ya
Ima beat the block when I see the cops
Ant dumb, GO dumb, like the homie Keak da Sneak
Galileo's head was on the block
The crime was lookin' up the truth
And as the bombshells of my daily fears explode
I try to trace them to my youth
God bless 2pac rest his soul
God bless hip-hop protect this flow
God rest them wack mc’z that stress my soul
& make it so I can’t hear my baby…
Galileo's head was on the block
The crime was lookin' up the truth
And as the bombshells of my daily fears explode
I try to trace them to my youth
In Peace to the enemy
Rest In Peace Rest In Peace to the enemy
I got a room back in my crib that I ain't never been to
I hear constant screams
lose yo mind
You swear you had the best of them
I'ma spray ya block the same color
As heart forgive
Ima spray ya block the same color as my Glock
side always, I rebel against the true system
A young man givin' old wisdom, over soul witness
I try to stay out of drama, give my life
the beam that I showed him, that I keep by my scrotum
I seen him I showed him, I leand him I told him
The Demons arose and, bullets, pull it
A hour just
of death
My niggas, we the last ones left, but life goes on
How many brothers fell victim to the streets?
Rest in peace, young nigga, there's a heaven for
apart of every aptitude
When it comes to rules play by em all you could bend a lil bit get caught
Do the bid get ahead fuck a pig
Get the block
decisions on how I'm liven
Try to get by with the knowledge that I'm given
Can't make me believe cause a tree is a tree
And when my soul bleeds, the color
hustle on the block)
Uh, okay
Kool-aid known by colors, boy, we ain't no flavors
(Ain't no flavors)
We relate to Jesus, most my people born in
shock and bring the rest
Tucked underneath my Mitchell & Ness (ha)
Scramblin', handlin' with a .45 cannon
It's tucked in my Marc Buchanan
Extra clips
or the prisons
Talkin' with my daughter
I learned to listen
She's studyin' law, I told her
"make firm decisions"
This is a prism of Hip Hop realism
From the block
Burl Ives - Haven of Rest
My soul in sad exile was out on life's sea,
So burdened with sin and distressed,
Till I heard a sweet voice, saying,
"Make
Shout to my ni**as that were really out here done it
Serving up blocks trynna get hot like they influences
Trynna make it out but getting lost while they
Shorty captured my soul
She had lust in her eyes
All these tats on her body
So much sin on my flesh
Evil rests on my heart
I had drugs in my body
I'm
Grabbing ass, that's a handful
Zombie show, line around the block
Hard work took us to the top
Uh, it ain't easy, it ain't easy (nope)
Used to be my
Stutterin' givin' 'em rest and makin' love again
In my best I be the run again
And I have the man dem stutterin'
I'm getting this nigga in
Uh
Uh
Uh
Uh
I-I-I-I got love for Gina
Like dat nigga Martin
Silly nigga don't get me started
Up da block from the jects
Temper like Ron Artest
Nigga
got maried to the game
Yeah i made that bitch mine.
Now i lay me down to sleep
Rest my soul in venice beach
Every day we wake and bake
Every day fuck
Y'all niggas scared by a dog, I got my fo'-fo' for y'all
It's like a hot, heated day homie, warfare don't play homie
Better be prepared than try to dunk
do I entertain y'all with my disrespect?
Respectfully (Great John on the beat, by the way)
Lil Nas X gon' catch AIDS and die like Eazy-E (he is)
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