Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Corner Store Showdown, artist - Blueprint. Album song Vigilante Genesis, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.05.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Weightless
Song language: English
Corner Store Showdown |
Corner store in any U.S. town |
Barber shop next door, church two doors down |
Tire shop is adjacent, owned by Africans |
Talk politics and get your flat fixed |
On summer nights, the block looks a lot like Freaknik |
Park across the street, but don’t nobody picnic |
Usually used for drug sales and hitting licks |
There’s only one way into and one way out of it |
Store owner got a big ass gun |
Known to be the first to pull out and last to run |
They say he got a benz he won’t even drive to the store |
He know his business does better if he looks like he’s poor |
His store’s wack, but it’s always packed |
Make me wonder if he’s really selling coke out the back, hmmm |
Last thing that my neighborhood needs |
I’mm writing «greed» on his shit when his bitch ass leaves |
But not tonight, now I’m just casing the joint |
So when I do hit it up, my shit can be on point |
Did the stats, I’m posted at the best spot possible; |
a bench inside the park |
with night-vision binoculars |
Did a double take, adjusted my focus familiar face walking by that look just |
like «oh shit!» |
Cat by the name of Anthony Portis |
As luck would have it, he’s number four on my list |
I knew he lived close but he was hard to find |
No car, no employment record of any kind |
Life time drug addict, real grimy |
Did time for raping chicks and missed most of the 90s |
Still running wild at 45 |
Probably rob an old lady if it help him survive |
He’s skinny as fuck, results of his lifetime addiction |
But not who I fought with and suspected of killing the kid |
Thought about leaving, but stuck around |
When I seen him creep behind the store into the alley and crouch down |
My mommy ain’t raise no dummies |
He either about to get high or about to try to get money |
Came back, hand tucked in his carhartt jacket |
Ski mask on his face and a long ass ratchet |
So I learned over and grabbed my video camera |
If it’s about to go down then I’m about to catch it |
He waited on the last car to leave the lot |
Walked up backwards, took a last pull of the pot |
Swung around towards the counter, big ass gun cocked |
«I want the cash and the drugs or your ass getting' shot!» |
My dude got balls, but he lost his mind |
For even thinking that the owner was alone at night |
They usually roll deep right around closing time so while he emptied out the |
register they crept up behind |
Two shot hit him right in his spine |
While he struggled not to fall, the owner pointed his nine |
Let off a couple, sounded like the fourth of July |
He was head but they still shot his ass twenty times |
Horrified, I scream to myself and wait for the gunshots to end so I can plan my |
escape |
Reach over to my bag put my goggles away |
Take the camera off the tripod, eject my tape |