Lyrics Quake - BROCKBEATS

Quake

I grew up on the crime side
The New York Times side
Stayin' alive was no jive
Had secondhands
Mom’s bounced on old man
So then we moved to Shaolin land
A young youth, yo rockin' the gold tooth, 'Lo goose
Only way I be gettin' the G off was drug loot
And let’s start it like this, son
Rollin' with this one and that one
Pullin' out gats for fun
But it was just a dream for the teen who was a fiend
Started smokin' woolas at 16
And runnin' up in gates and doin' hits for high stakes
Makin' my way on fire escapes
No question I would speed for cracks and weed
The combination made my eyes bleed
No question I would flow off
And try to get the dough all
Stickin' up white boys in ball courts
My life got no better, same damn 'Lo sweater
Times is rough and tough like leather
Figured out I went the wrong route
So I got with a sick tight clique and went all out
Catchin' keys from across seas
Rollin' in MPV’s, every week we made forty G’s
Yo brothers respect mine, or anger the TEC-9
Ch-pow, move from the gate, now
It’s been twenty-two long hard years
I’m still strugglin'
Survival got me buggin'
But I’m alive on arrival
I peep at the shape of the streets
And stay awake to the
Ways of the world 'cause deep
A man with a dream with plans to make cream
Which failed;
I went to jail at the age of fifteen
A young buck sellin' drugs and such
Who never had much
Tryin' to get a clutch
At what I could not touch
The court played me short
Now I face incarceration
Pacin', goin' upstate’s my destination
Handcuffed in the back of a bus
Forty of us
Life as a shorty
Shouldn’t be so rough
But as the world turned
I learned life is hell
Livin' in the world
No different from a cell
Every day I escape from Jakes givin' chase
Sellin' base, smokin' bones in the staircase
Though I don’t know why
I chose to smoke sess
I guess that’s the time
When I’m not depressed
But I’m still depressed, and I ask:
«What's it worth?»
Ready to give up so I seek the old Earth
Who explained workin' hard
May help you maintain
To learn to overcome
The heartaches and pain
We got stick-up kids
Corrupt cops, and crack rocks
And stray shots, all on the block that stays hot
Leave it up to me while I be livin' proof
To kick the truth to the young black youth
But shorty’s runnin' wild
Smokin' sess, drinkin' beer
And ain’t tryin' to hear what I’m kickin' in his ear
Neglected for now, but yo
It gots to be accepted
That what?
That life is hectic