Lyrics:
the black or the light Timbs
White boys look, act, and rap like Slim (hi)
Fight Music, knife users never respect it
Guns talk, high schools with metal
the black or the light Timbs
White boys look, act, and rap like Slim (hi)
Fight Music, knife users never respect it
Guns talk, high schools with metal
and schools destroyed
No home to return to
Columbia
The conscience of the people
Columbia
The Student’s cry for Peace
The empire is well prepared
Yeah, back in the high school
Yeah, they're so cool
Letterman jackets in the parking lot
Dragging on a Camel light, back behind the Five and Dime
We need help in our city, people, we need a lot of help in our town
We need a lot of help in our city, you know, we need a lot of help in our town
we both quit high school
There was way too many people there makin' way too many rules
Makin' way too many rules
So we got no education, but we
the dreamer
Or the misfit so alone
Subdivisions
In the high school halls
In the shopping malls
Conform or be cast out
Subdivisions
In the basement bars
the dreamer
Or the misfit so alone
Subdivisions
In the high school halls
In the shopping malls
Conform or be cast out
Subdivisions
In the basement bars
The crime rate in my city
Still risin' like yeast my young homie said
"Fuck school" and hit the block
I try to tell him
"Be thankful for the shit you got"
showing up twenty late, finding hearts and rules to break
Why would he wanna change when every memory still bows to him?
But this ain't high school
The city is my jungle gym
Look at this big great world that we're living in
There's lots of fun to be had on these streets
We can take a ride just
If you get a little dirt on your new boots
If you roll in late to work from hittin' snooze
If them school boys ain't got no luck
'Cause you start
The city is my jungle gym
Look at this big great world that we're living in
There's lots of fun to be had on these streets
We can take a ride just
smiling thinking to myself
Man, what a picture-perfect postcard this would make of America
It's a high school prom, it's a Springsteen song, it's a ride
was lost, I ain't know who I was
What else was there to do besides look like a thug
So in my senior year at Columbia High
I dropped out of High
telling you lie, all on the media?
They make the world look crazy to keep you inside?
Why you listen when the teachers at school
Know you a young single
Nah, nah, nah, fuck that, nah)
Ain't nothin but a Compton thang
Chyea (we got five on it)
How we do
Fresh outta school 'cause I was a high school
city or a one horse town
Growin' up can bring you down
High school is wildfire
It's like walkin' the high wire
Oh, high school is wildfire
It's
a parking lot down and outer
Under that high school bleacher
I drove that preacher's daughter crazy
Her mama was my homeroom teacher
And her dad was
knowledge
slow with thought control and subtle hints
It's rubbing it, It's itching it, It's applying cream
It's the foreigners sight seeing with high
me school yah
Screaming Thug Life nigga
When I do yah
It's the last of the drank
Pull over
Can't hear a damn thang
Sober
High 'Til I
All through school he did real well got a good job in the sawmill yeah
But he wanted more so he went away
As he stepped on board the 8-0-2 he could
of them when you
Stroll along a New York City dock?
Have you seen a snowflake
Drifting in the Rockies, way up high?
Or seen the sun come blazing down
From
they be telling you lie, all on the media?
They make the world look crazy to keep you inside?
Why you listen when the teachers at school
Know you
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