(feat. Freeway, Young Chris, Sparks & Oschino) (from "State Property" soundtrack)
[Chorus 1 - Sigel:] I know it's hard in every hood I know Struggle in every ghetto I know But not like the one I know I see the law in every hood I go They throw metal in every hood I know But not like the one I know
[Oschin:] We all started innocent Eating Reese's Pieces I was young, then wearing 5 star Aleses Bullet in ya gut a have a bag catch ya feces 20 months, vision quest, sleeping in a tepee Since my dad died, attitude worsened That's why I stole cars before I could write cursive Thousand miles from being rich, stuck on my grind Try to sale nickel bags like Louie Baton I'm young, I'm good, best shape of my life One shot from big shit a blow you out of ya Nikes Only a dick head wouldn't wanna be rich And do his car like school and drop out in the 6 You could look at my wrist, It wasn't shit on it But I was determined to get a little gliss on em The 40 ounce bottles done turned to Cris on em And every bitch that was fronting, I'm a piss on em
[Beanie Sigel:] My hood dog Like any average one You know the dirty kids on the block having fun Hand to hand is how the grams is slung In tanned Timberlands and [?] until them vans a come It's all good now But you remember those latter days Them tubleware, soul food platter days That was ya mom little hustle on a Saturdays Back then, when it really didn't matter days You would take that beating Cause you wasn't trying to be The only one who missed the house party on the weekend Knowing that them project chicks was in there freaking Grinding off "As We Lay" Walk with me ya'll Back in the Day, you and ya man slap tapping away Pitching chains, playing craps everyday Getting high on the block Green bottles of private stock 2 dollar 40's Sparks tell ya story
[Chorus 1]
[Sparks:] I come up fragile and timid Pressed to the limit 12 years old, no household From the start I was finished Disowned by the biologicals And adopted by rolling stones on corners, sipping Thunderbird Banging needles and pushing stolen Regals And with no hoe and no money, layered my hunger pains daily with rice and gravy Stuck between a rock and a hard spot as a juvenile Just made me wanna holla "Lord help me" But I had will power Stole a burner from Uncle Lester And that.22 long blossomed to wild flower Now when I enter rooms the conversation stop And them cock suckers whisper These faggots ain't got no cahunas So if they so much as touch me I cock back and put like bananas on them mokey motherfuckers Show no love for these cock suckers Weeping Who can't deal with life situations cause that's money to me Uhh Murder
[Freeway:] Now who am I Little nigga named Free from the hood What I do Make a living, make a killing in the hood What I'm trying to do now Get my children out the hood Before the ATF start coming Plot, plot on Now who am I Little nigga named Free from the block What I do Make a living, make a killing on the block What I'm trying to do now Get my children off the block And my real niggas, if they coming, clique come on In my hood, F-R-double uh Cock back, double pump You rapping, I just happen to have some space in the trunk 89' dough, space in the front Will ya hoe fit? Beef come, we be dumping the whole clip Having lunch, while you be fronting, be fucking ya hoe sick Send her home, can't hump Send my nigga's through ya block, can't pump Grind, watch for the cops Shit tucked I'll be watching them lady CO's if I slip up Uh Uh
[Chorus 2:] I know it's hard in every hood I know Struggle in every ghetto I know But not like the one I know I see the law in every hood I go They throw metal in every hood I know But not like the one I know I know it's coke in every hood I know It's no joke in every hood I know But not like the one I know I know it's rough in every hood I know It's fucked up in every hood I know But not like the one I know
[Talking - Chris and Sigel:] Yo, I'm saying Mac, I know I'm young and all (Yeah that's what's up?) But I been through a little struggle too (What you been through?) Lot of crazy shit dog, ya know? (Shit Don't tell me, you got opportunity to tell the world) Feel this dog (Speak ya story, Yung Gun)
[Chris:] Yo I was brought up in the wildest streets Where niggas pack everyday, and everybody crowd to eat 24/7, no time to sleep A g and up, reing up, 3 times a week Throwing numbers on the strip The yungin out the clique Moves like Carl Lewis when it's coming out the clip Uh, Still in school, all the learning I can get Focused, trying to purchase all the burners I can get I know plenty niggas fell, trying to chauffer through this shit These niggas tell, then a murder gon exist It's no joke in the hood Especially when the boat ain't make it across And we ain't got no coke in the hood That's where rap come in at, more notes in a book Dro in the woods, Mom dukes trying to lay low in the woods [Raps to fade]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
