The Neighborhood

Thousand lives ago

We were young and we didn't know

We were trading our crowns for our souls

Made the sacrifice

Headed back to the light

But be careful don't drown in the gold

I know it glows but it's cold

I'm from the other side of town

Out of bounds

To anybody who don't live around

I never learned to share or how to care

I never had no teachings about being fair

Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?

And Four Corner Hustlers, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces

The concrete matrix, street organizations

They gave violations, hood public relations

It was the basics to get big faces

Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces

The hustles was the taste makers and trend setters

They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us

The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush

Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush

I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci

A bad ho to do me, you heard of flukey?

Stokes it was folks and coke and dope

Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope

Rare jewels of a generation

Diamonds, blinding us so real shit we facin'

Forties wasted on seats, Dion makin' the beats

When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat

I could break it down like whatever you need

He squinted his face and rolled the weed

You know they don't see sometimes

That in the neighborhood

It's the exact same thing

It's the same thing over and over again

Feel me?

Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?

Folly boy, O block, eastside

Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride

Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?

Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying

Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign

I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times

Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine

I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind

I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up

But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper

Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major

Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', grammy raised us

No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit

Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with

Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit

Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit

I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it

Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean

You ain't never seen the shit that I seen

Coming inbound

Forty six minutes from 355

Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in

Lake Shore Drive's heavy south

North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park

Tri State heavy south to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp

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