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ain't black Nigga straight sneaking through the cracks. Who's that wigga in my neighborhood, In my neighborhood... In my neighborhood... Mr.
has spent most other Nights this year the building is Hidden in a residential neighborhood Behind a high Automatic gate the room reeks of Berry-flavored
[Chorus] [Busta Rhymes] For all my motherfuckers That live in the urban city areas Only the urban city areas The ghettoes The neighborhoods where
I’m suburban Gucci mane In Ohio where I’m stayin In the wealthy neighborhoods I’m sellin green I’m sellin caine That’s the name of the game Bitch I
out of his shell Urban environment treating him well, Montreal baby I'm under your spell I'm trying to examine you I am the lab rat of this here cell
Unfamiliar neighborhood, but not for her Soft narration in a soothing female voice Body reacts, I'm thinking of something else Rearview mirror, foreign
the other, one man out to smother The neighborhood, that left me here without my brother Fuck you under covers and you dirty motherfuckers In the hood, that
the neighborhoods you won’t set foot in Won’t stop to help, just ridin' past lookin' Why not take initiative to help us lower classes outta the well Pledge is a lie
planning Never sever levers, endeavor better measures, expanding Development upon settlement, dictate the course with initiative Threaten the opposition's
The neighborhood that left me here without my brother Fuck you, undercovers and you dirty motherfuckers In the hood that still fuck without rubbers Club hop, bar
midnight urban litty Antonio is an ordinary guy Told every lie in the book know why Shandel believed everything he said Proud of the gangster hood that he is
Urban sprawl, the gentrifier's hand Culture erased, swallowed by the land Artisanal coffees, hipster pride Displaced bodies, nowhere to hide
the people Bunchy with 'em and they tryna stop the evil And they cliqued up with they fist up The whole neighborhood feelin' like they meant somethin' Then
The people of the side for the urban I like to work for top, or make 'em work it [Daz Dillinger] Whattup?! I see my niggaz all in the cut Laid back, actin
threat By a nervous terrorist who's so scared that his palms wet One, two, three, four The stuff legends are made of, urban folklore Like Jim Morrison we
four [t.k] the stuff legends are made of, urban folklore Like jim morrison we break on through Before I care about your take on me, we take on you
we choo-choo away Even the wave Like when we hit the turbine Surfing the streets Can't catches when we do it Vibe in this urban I got eyes on you
night canopy, under skies so airy Neighborhood symphony, beats from the heart Lost in the night, playin' our part [Verse 3] Lamp posts flicker, shadows
She drove a long way through the night From an urban neighborhood She left her mother in a fight For a dream misunderstood And her friends they
Yeah, yeah, oh, oh, yeah, yeah She drove a long way through the night From an urban neighborhood She left her mother in a fight For a dream
urban neighborhoods Are growing up without the benefit of having adults in whom they can confide Consequently, African-American cultural values are
the best out of life with no supervision Returnin' from neighborhood wars tallyin' who went missin' It's your fault it's the second time I'd be a fool for
The people of the side for the urban I like to work for top, or make 'em work it [Daz Dillinger] Whattup?! I see my niggaz all in the cut Laid back, actin
Rapin' fine bitches while they screamin' out no See the deeper that I think about it, it makes me seem right Prowl through the neighborhood, creature
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