Lyrics:
I can't afford to own
When being young starts getting old
A new pace saves face or so I'm told
Be the new kid, on an old block
A chalk outline
I heard you niggas dick ridin', y'all gay
Been posted up on the same block all day
Where's that tough shit?
When they was putting blicks in yall face
Oh my God Nate
Nate you can't. No no. Come on man
I got enough shots to last me a whole triller
All that tough shit he rappin' I swear I don't really
so long that
My ribs are starting to touch
Living on that dead end block
Where they was dealing indica
Niggas rocking a buck fifty like
‘We really in
sorta talk lyrics to rhythm
And rhyme and then deliver in various ways
You know, some sorta preach, and some sorta play
Nevertheless, there's a common
block street
Nigga health care insured by that guap
More ways than [?] to me [?]
Jackals playin' overseas with they yacht
Shit I probly be the same I find
smoke I'm on my way
(Skrrt, skrrt)
Your bitch gave the kid Cudi but I'm not signed to Ye (on God)
I nutted on her cheek, her new nickname is Baby Face
Yeah
Remix
Yeah, check it out
Brought to you by Blackstreet
It's the remix
No diggity, no doubt
Play on playette
Lil' Man, Funky Mama in
the elevation (repeat 4X)
"A player, that can leap, with the best of them"
Risin up in the 'Velt, Strong Island, New York
The hood in case you did not know
Hum V (V)
I'm surrounded by these RBGs
(HEeee!!)
We get green, roll green, and eat green like sebi
Born in them 80's
I clown like I'm Bailey
This
on the planet that can do it
Like I do it you put a mountain in front of me I go through it
I pursue it, danger
Never stoppin' the mangler
Nina tough with
tough
Depending on what type of hood you in
So trust me I do understand the fascination with Peter Pan
Kids rather be in Neverland than to be here in
me a brand new toy
Two turntables with a mic, and I learned to rock like Dolemite
Time went by, on this God's creation, I knew someday I would rock
g-g-gone
I don't care
(New York, stand up)
Yeah, I'm on the block, man, chillin'
I'm parked by the Rucker park, I'm just chillin'
Underground love my spot,
bustin' out the girdle
Tell 'em boys ain't nothin' sweet, it's sauerkraut, ya heard me?
They find ya body in New Orleans on Mardi Gras on Bourbon
Like,
cutest new kid should've seen my face
Brown boy and I'm sittin good with the high fade
On the track flashin like its pics I'm straight snappin
No cappin in
Yeah I'm about to switch the flow
Yeah this shit is way too slow
New kid on the block
And she really want my cock
And this song aint even drop
But she
a new bitch with a better ass
And if you up that motherfucker, then you better blast
I was hangin' on the block, you was still in class
Sippin' wokhardt,
from the ATL
In our new block, choppers on the rooftop
Flip a nigga like he was a NBA mascot
Strip a nigga from his Wade
Cap to his two socks
Got it from
a kid to his mommy in tsunami
With hip-hop dreams, waitin for a nigga to sign me
Last of the Mo'Picans, new kids grimy grimy
Nobody to trust besides me
shotting out 10's on the block
Fuck am I shotting out eights to the kids
Yo we need to change these ways that we live
Don't you want a house?
Don't you want
this shit for me, I do this shit for my kids
I teach 'em how to go and get it when they ready to leave
I'm tired of livin' up in hell when I know
a way to get up
Cos these mornings are getting tough
So, I take it puff by puff
And besides the daily shit
I ain't got a struggle to rap about
Or drugs
this fuckin kid in the skull Look some motherfuckers don't play that shit Listen here motherfucker you don't know how we do things I'm one of them
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