| Same dude new guts
|
| Literal and figurative lost a couple fucks
|
| Shit, alright fine, alright I gave 'em
|
| Came a lotta way to play the cooler than awake game shucks
|
| Got me
|
| Thumper on the raglan
|
| Johnny on the spot with an ill fitting magnum
|
| Guns look dumb on chumps like me
|
| No funds no fun don’t move won’t see
|
| DayQuill NyQuil zzQuil sleep 'til
|
| Peace fills ill hearts
|
| Beats gone keep still
|
| Yeah
|
| Guess what
|
| Stef’s nuts
|
| Crazy
|
| Best luck
|
| Chest bump
|
| Fist won’t fade me
|
| Kicking out canes
|
| Candy from your babies
|
| Jumping off the top ropes
|
| Screaming no kang me
|
| Chandelier swangin
|
| Table flipping OG
|
| Pinky up sipping on a Surly Doomtree
|
| What’s up?
|
| Same shit different animal
|
| Same food whole different kinda cannibal
|
| Lost on the moon
|
| Your dude resides southside
|
| Northeast
|
| Northside
|
| Yeah
|
| Alright
|
| Downtown
|
| Roof top
|
| Waiting on the sky to fall (yeah, yeah)
|
| But I ain’t heard the last of y’all
|
| Wolf cryin
|
| Alligator tears
|
| With your eyes wide
|
| Waiting for the sky to fall (alright)
|
| Eyes wide can’t see
|
| Vision all burgundy
|
| That or all green
|
| Intentions all slithery
|
| I keep mine fine tuned on the next move
|
| Tryna dodge the sky
|
| (Yeah, yeah, eh)
|
| My hood ain’t the same no more my niggas say no more all of the places we love
|
| have been left in ruins (yeah)
|
| My hood ain’t the same no more my niggas say no more all of the places we love
|
| have been left in ruins
|
| They’ve been left in ruins
|
| All of the places we love have been left in ruins
|
| All of the places we love have been left
|
| Look, I switched up my zone
|
| It’s nothing but clones
|
| Swimming thru society
|
| Just learning my own
|
| Carving a legacy in this rock
|
| But who really knows
|
| Kicking in doors
|
| While shooting past all of my goals
|
| Horoscope couldn’t tell you
|
| What the hell I’mma do
|
| Everything a murder case
|
| But what do i lose
|
| I prove
|
| Snipers on the roof
|
| Breath in let’s resume
|
| Took a gamble
|
| While my life was in shambles
|
| I’ll never lose
|
| Ring the alarm
|
| Panic look how they panic
|
| Shit runs loose
|
| Dancing on walls
|
| Scramble to get thru
|
| Playing with fire devil on my ass
|
| But not wired
|
| Wireless to the bullshit so connection runs wild
|
| Never fragile speak easy
|
| Believe me (haha)
|
| I won’t get boxed in I’m not a damn tv
|
| I need that and some
|
| Shuffle the deck and watch me land them
|
| Doing backflips with life I hope they stand them
|
| Or stand me
|
| Energy looking just like a stampede
|
| While everything is vanishing
|
| I hope they can find me
|
| My hood ain’t the same no more my niggas say no more all of the places we love
|
| have been left in ruins (yeah)
|
| My hood ain’t the same no more my niggas say no more all of the places we love
|
| have been left in ruins
|
| They been left in ruins
|
| All of the places we love have been left in ruins
|
| (Um, yes sir)
|
| I can tell a spell with the hood on my back
|
| I can ball out and take the goods off the rack
|
| Even though my father been hooked on crack
|
| I can get it done
|
| Jumping through hoops as economies slump
|
| Vomiting them chunks 'cause the ambience sucks
|
| Dangling the clotheslines on elephant tusks
|
| Yeah, I can get it done, I can get it done
|
| I wear a helmet 'cause the square is hellish
|
| Declare the felt tip
|
| As a way to definitely upset adults
|
| I turn the swag to an electric pulse
|
| Turn it up about a megavolt
|
| As you read a post
|
| Yeah she had that singing voice that could melt a dead bolt
|
| But her singing in the ear always gets the best results
|
| We used to read that new new soaking in the Epson salts
|
| But now the hood is different and the the yuppies want the special sauce
|
| I read insults
|
| From the OG’s bio what a mouthful
|
| When we write the laws it’s poetry by council
|
| Sitting with my fork, and my dinner plate and knives
|
| Thinking I can do more than just entertain whites, my spite
|
| Blood-sugar mixing through the sugar cane’ll lubricate the cotton gin
|
| The dollar bin is full of rain
|
| I’ve got a couple black geniuses in the bullet train
|
| Bumping them big words shooting out the woodgrain, woah
|
| My hood ain’t the same no more my niggas say no more all of the places we love
|
| have been left in ruins (yeah)
|
| My hood ain’t the same no more my niggas say no more all of the places we love
|
| have been left in ruins
|
| They been left in ruins
|
| All of the places we love have been left in ruins (ruins)
|
| All of the places we love have been left |