Lyrics:
bad news, baring they souls through rhyming blues
Hardcore! to make them brothers act fool
Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel
Smell
leaving me no choice, but to raise these three kids all by myself
I will not wait for you
A gift
To come home
I threw the candles out
Left your food
to say, "Hi"
Did you stop?
No, I just drove by
Kept on pursuing to the next stop
I bust a left and I'm heading to the next block
That block was dead
Pull up in the car with a new bitch in it
Circle 'round the block
Now I got two bitch in it
Never runnin' out because my juice infinite
I'm just out
I send two niggas back up top, and come back
We chop up rock, by midnight, we open up shop
It's four in the mornin', we on the block creepin'
Hold the dice, NYPD alarm, need to be calm
Nothin' but gunshots, kids need to be home
Block so hot, the fire hydrant need to be on
(Harlem)
The fiends
"Bye, Mom, Bye, Spot, see you later"
1 Block, 2 Blocks, 3
My mom's still wavin' at me 4, 5, 6
The kids are all startin' to mix 7, 8, 9
I'm tryin'
what time it is
To all my real New Yorkers
Please, stand up
That's right
Augh
Yeah, Look
It's that New York City, time to get gritty
Bang Bang, a kid got
radio
Suckers on my jock when I walk down the block
I really don't care if you're jealous or not
Cause I make the songs, you sing along
And your
Suckas on my jock when I walk down the block
I really don't care if you're jealous or not
'Cause I make the songs, you sing along
And your radio's deaf
Who am I Who am i
I say I'm the new kid on the block
I took my shots and I never looked back
A lot of rappers lost focusing on the past
But
do that so it's
Back to the lab again
With a pen and pad again just to rap again
Time to make these jealous motherfuckers mad again
Cause I got their
pipe is so yellow
The blue polka dots
Pink stripes and it's pink on the title
Nigga fuck your role model bitch
I'm my own idol and
If you can't face it
"Yes, what's the deal, son?"
"Yo, I got bad news"
Yo, by the tone of his voice, I heard the ill street blues
"The friends will make you, then too can
son?"
"Yo, I got bad news"
Yo, by the tone of his voice, I heard the I'll street blues
"The friends will make you, them too can break you
They plan
on the block like Whoo Kid
ASAP standing on the block like the new kids
You're all I had (I miss you, Rose), you're all I had
At night when the stars light up my room
I sit by myself, talking to the moon
Fuck on a bitch,
dig)
I pull up on you and I pop at your kid (you dig)
I pull up to your block and I pop at your wig (you dig)
I hopped out the coupe and I'm fresh
famous
Like drug addiction and depression famous
I need 10,000 likes up on my new pic
Not a big baller baby, I need my blue tick
I need that p off of your
let me show you mine
Bring the six o'clock news
And let me walk 'em in my shoes
Through what you call the inner city
And what I call the blues
I'm broke
on standby
Waving just to say, "Hi"
Did you stop?
No, I just drove by
Kept on pursuing to the next stop
I bust a left and I'm heading to the next block
on a case-by-case basis like the judge
What about these lyin' ass hoes tryin' to plot
Or these niggaz on the block who want the queen (Nigga please)
But even she
hop out a coffin
At the real estate, behavin' type choosy
Want a palace, make the shit beige and light blue please
Got the kid like watch your
peepin' in horn
Killin' all these pussy niggaz think they keepin' in God
Pistol cocked on the block and all they fearin' is death
Then again nigga,
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