Lyrics:
idea was a good idea at this point.
There was a free newspaper in New York city called the Village Voice on the back of every issue, there was
still rings
You can't find my in my Nike tech and my Air Force Ones on the block with PAK
Feds thought I was a bando baby cos they pulled me in the ride
'round that corner
I'm still gon' be up if I die today
I came through crashing like a tidal wave
I got this shit on lock, don't I?
And I got your bitch
chose
Still I'm livin' it by street codes
Pain and poverty put these flows in Beast Mode
Here we go
The road to my success from here was not a block
a stupid little kid
When I play my little songs wishing I could make it big
And I show them to my mom and I send them to my friends
But they never get
bubble but its bubbling in me man
It's just facetious
The kids are getting pregnant and the watermelons seedless
I don't believe this
They can't even tie
one tape with hardcore
I was so upset, and ready to get ill
Then I thought about a kid who lived up the hill
I went to his house to get my tape
He
want a brand new glock don't ya (right)
You want to hold the block down for ya mens locked down
Till they get back home, Just Do It (Just Do It)
You want
want a brand new glock don't ya (right)
You want to hold the block down for ya mens locked down
Till they get back home, Just Do It (Just Do It)
You want
out at his show 6 niggas deep in a white truck
We gon walk right thru the door stand by the stage them cannons tucked
If a nigga try to play I tell my
the neighborhood locked, to be the new man on the block
But if you asked me who's the man I'm like, "you tell me?
I don't know, ed lover, Dr. Dre and heavy d?"
I
First, we're affected by what we know
When I talk to the kids in high school classes, college classes
That's the first thing I tell 'em
Get
on a chick
Her mouth hold kids like a test tube
Got 20 20 vision
Something like a bird watcher
Swag strolling through your block
Like a old honda
Putting out
she wanna die
Now we on the news
Buried us by the roadside, the roadside, the roadsideee
Kid castle
When you see me on your grave
When you see me
ain't tryin' to be you
Nineteen-ninety-nine, 2000 black, new design
My head is on right
Back up kid you wasn't born right
Playin' center I block
QB (that show nuff right on)
Fuck niggas want to do man (nothing)
See Cease A Leo (huh)
I'm for the kids (right)
Sometimes we gotta
just thought he was too cool
Cause all the moneymakers and the big-time crooks
He never ever seen none of them carryin books
He used to be on the block
the white glove
I'm above, show you love for the general
Bag me the emeralds, never end the jewels
Attendin school of thoughts, red curtains, white turbans
way you can reproduce it
I got verse in my spirit cause I was raised by this music
Hit the stage with the fuse lit, set to aim at a few kids
No names
on a case-by-case basis like the judge
What about these lyin' ass hoes tryin' to plot
Or these niggaz on the block who want the queen (Nigga please)
But even she
verified
Have your ass on the news like a headliner
On the block with the blower and its heads fryin
I used to pray for a blessing every night before my
York, New York, the city that never sleeps
Bodies, covered in white sheets, are layin in the streets
Shit gets deep, as we creep up the block by the kids
A new day, a new hope
Today I woke thinkin' it's time I go
My own way, tired of livin' with this
Life I ain't chose man, but I was given
If I ain't
faith you’re a disgrace;
And, then, he tops it off by saying…
…At the congregation, you’ll not show your face!
V32 Group
Oh my god…
(1 beat pause)
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