Lyrics:
the suburbs to the hood
May you judge us by our hearts and not by our mistakes
And see that we get our breakthrough, however long that it takes
May you fill
the suburbs to the hood
May you judge us by our hearts and not by our mistakes
And see that we get a breakthrough however long that it takes
May you fill
the suburbs to the hood
May You judge us by our hearts
And not by our mistakes
And see that we get a breakthrough
However long that it takes
May You fill that
ya
I got PTSD from the killin's of these beats
I'm a veteran
I came in the game like a soldier
I could sun you like Barbosa
Me and Nash playin' soccer
From the suburbs to the stage, man, I'm feelin' great
No longer trapped in a life of crime
I found my voice and I'm takin' what's mine
(Ooh-yeah,
Guns in your section guns in your scene
Guns in the air get the loot take the cream
Pakistan Africa Chi-town Oakland
Guns by the cop make a mama
thumbed by landing lights.
When you were young as the radio would talk you off to sleep.
Although the arcades shine bright, they don't have the glow
of the fittest
I'm a menace crook
I did so much dirt I need to be in the Guinness Book
From the shit I took from people
I reap all your fat shit, jack
bananas too/remember back on the block by the park bench/bottom of the hill rhyming through the dark man/out late enough you could see the zombies/scratch
violence, car alarms,
My neighbour waving from his yard with half an arm,
Vietnam in the suburbs, the walking dead,
Burning down the house like Talking Heads,
on the scene
a intense gun battle between police and known drug dealers
from both the local area and New York City
The shooting's been ongoing since early
Fighters Colour of the Shape There Is Nothing Left to Lose
Who's Next by The Who
The Cat Empire Two Shoes
Circe Survive Blue Sky Noise
From Under the Cork
krills
And vision of a hustler far from a Lyor deal
Thinking ghetto divas
Now my broad wear Dior heels
Play grimy blocks with Glocks stashed
By the car
I'm still searching for that scene
I dreamed of in the suburbs
Listening to records of a past already dead
Because where do you go when you want
beat him up
We packed it through
But there was lots more room
So there was one more thing to do
We filled the mother
With the kids from the suburbs
produce is like gin and juice when it blend
Scenes from Toni Braxton you'll Never Breath Again
I rhyme without ability to reason, niggas is guilty
still after all
doing it the old egyptian way
with sparkling clothes and force
now i awake in the afternoon
the arcade is filled with children
families
to maple hill or North Shore by the lake
Freezing at a bus stop huddled from Dec to late may
There were only a few cool places to go for us to go hang out
Showing the same open eye from before
This time surrounded by strange and foreign objects
Like an ovoid object seemingly on fire
Or towering rectangular
[Q-Tip]
(yo) Aiyyo Buck, word up (get up in em)
Yo it's that nigga from the Tribe
Let these niggas know what's up son, aight?
[Buckshot]
I be 'bout my business like I'm in a suit and tie
But when I'm by myself I roll it up and blaze that fire
I'm blessed and I ain't never stressed
wanna put some cuffs on me
Hell's Kitchen good casserole out the stove
And 500 grams I just left cash for gold
Money message from my bitch about who she
listen up, I'll spit some fire
Talking 'bout hacking, it's my desire
KiwiBot's in my sight, gonna take it down
With Anonymous by my side, we'll wear
hard to make it out the gutter cuz my city cold,
I'm tryna move out to the suburbs from my city home
Jerome
My hoes sidity man I’m moving on a different
.jpg/300px-Arcade_Fire_(27463874647).jpg "Arcade Fire, The")
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