Black hoods, cops 'n projects sewers flooded with foul blockage The gutter's wild and every child watches Changin top locks with ripped off hinges doors kicked off, drunks stag off smirnoff, wipe your beard off Crippled dope fiends in wheelchairs stare vision blurry, cus buried deep in they mind are hidden stories Bet he's a mirror image of that 70's era finished for the rest of his life, till he fades out The liquor store workers miss him but then it plays out so many ways out the hood but no signs say out Mental slavehouse where gats go off, I show off niggas up north, prison-ology talk, till they time cut off You should chill if you short, prepare deep thought to hit the street again, get it on, get this paper and breathe again Plan to leave somethin' behind so your name'll live on, no matter what the game lives on
(Chorus) Lookin' out of my project window Oh, I feel uninspired Lookin' out of my project window Oh, it makes me feel, so tired
Yo, if this piano's the cake then my words are the candles Light it up, make a wish, and them angels will grant you Impatient once tried, but in those angels and bamboo they lit it up, *puff* *puff*, hit it up, *puff* Now they dismantled, think the whole world is crazy, got a 9 watch where you walk, 2 dollar fine, sign of the times here in New York Hi Satan, United Nations quietly taken, to own your soul take it or leave it, just my evaluation Stack loot and guns, teach the girls karate, school your sons not to hate but to stay awake, cus the scars a razor make is nothin' in comparison to the gas left on this whole mass, if we don't get it controlled fast might as well be, laughin' with Malcolm X's assassin as we die slow perishin', brain dead from a Erickson Words are the medicine, two teaspoons for goons a cup of it for those thuggin' it, y'all sing the tune
Chorus
Another day, another dollar, my mother will holla She said "go and see the world for myself, and my brother Shafala" Pops was smooth, from his top to his shoes sang the rules, guitar strings he played smokin' his ? ? hat, picture this yo, seventies cat He wrote his music in the back of the crib, I did my homework At night the windows were speakers, pumpin' life out a fight, people screamin' cus somebody pulled a knife out So I look at this poem, I'm hooked to this tune every night the same melody, hell sounded so heavenly But jail was ahead of me, ????? Reading's what I should've done, cus my imagination would run I was impatient to get out and become part of the noise out there I used to stare, five stories down, basketball courts, shot up playgrounds and I witnessed the murders and police shake-downs Yo, the hustlas and hoes, drugs and fo-fos This was the life of every kid, lookin' out project windows
Oh, outta my window Lookin' out of my project window Oh, it makes me feel, so tired Lookin' out of my project window Oh, I feel uninspired Lookin' out of my project window Oh, it makes me feel, so tired Lookin' out of my project window Oh, I feel uninspired Starin out of, of my window Oh I, feel so tired Oh yeah, outta my window Oh, lookin' out, lookin' out Lookin' out my window, oh yeah Makes me, feel so tired Outta my window, out my project window Lord I feel, uninspiredTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
