Lyrics:
ain't really crime now When you living where we Living, Michael Jackson was Dead wrong in BAD when he Told Wesley to quit it
MC Hammer, too legit too quit
and you will find
Down on Western Ford Gateway
That's a place where the dead say
That a man lives no more
Than his fair share of days
Down on Western
and you will find
Down on Western Ford Gateway
That's a place where the dead say
That a man lives no more
Than his fair share of days
Down on Western
You are the only one
I want by my side
But you got to be a risk taker
Down to rise
Because the life I live
It ain't all peach and cream
Because these
words
Tryna get off this block, bullshit get left on the curb
From a place where its hot, hustlers get burned by the heat
Find my way to live longer
Never influenced by movements of what the cultures doing
If it ain't congruent wit my dreams I can't get into it
Only time they down with you is if they
started by gunmen
Beatin' me, but I'm sworn a mark of secrecy
(I feel you soon), they will never weaken me
For the struggle, til my fate reaches me
see Nathan
And so I drive by
Bye-bye pretty lady
I been sick with the flow
For sure since the 80's
Accra City baby
My only home b
Its never lonely
Ask
telling God the day I fall protect my family's kin
cll my brothers
cll my sisters
Hope you paving your sense
It's so complex
I come from the streets where
Like colts about the waste. So Annie, now--
Have we not known each other all our lives?
I do beseech you by the love you bear
Him and his children not
teenage hustlers
Street grinders, paper chasin scrapin busters
By keepin dust up noses and caine homes; pipes and cans
So they want they ride candy
not far from fascism
The classism is rampant in this backwards trash hole we live in
Where assholes are winning
Where sad souls get devoured whole by
live up to you
And all that you do
You never tell your enemies from friends
And life will never be the same again
You never know where the story ends
on our street
I learned from the IRA
To protect my family
With a verse or two of street shit
On a Belfast beat
I'm dangerous?
You strange to us
It'd be
role in your bed when your thug ain't there
Somewhere around ladies know I get lonely and proud
Open my file baby you should know me by now
Tryin'
The same thing I told my mother
With blood on her shoulder, as she was holdin my brother
We live! Where doo-rags stay under the hat
And you don't want
used to shit
We'd shoot ya quick
Coming where I come from
You better keep a gun even if you don't want one
My cousin wasn't raised in the streets
Oh you landsmen and you seamen come listen to my song
It's of a trick was played on me it won't detain you long
I came from sea the other day a fair
her to follow me
I said that we'll have a good time
Babe, I'll have you home by nine
Babe, why can't you read the signs
I'll write a tome 'bout us
would you listen to me /
I'm trying to live right but the streets is getting to me/Lord I'm feeling hopeless/
My God I'm feeling hopeless/
I go by the name of Kel Mitchell!
And this is TeamBackPack! Let's go!
Yo, I'm so '96, back and on my grimy shit
Nigga get -whoever they'll sign me
at the 'Kiss
'Cause I walk around with your whole advance on my wrist
Boning your women, drunk off Coronas and lemon
And you know I'm still writin' the mean,
You try to get in contact I don't respond back
Where the god at come back smellin' like cognac
Baby beware I'm tryin' my best to be fair
Aye yo-the
Jones
What a thug from the street
Who was hoeing his heat
And who knows to that lady named Simone
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