Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bad/Good, artist - Diamond D. Album song The Huge Hefner Chronicles, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 13.10.2008
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Bad/Good |
| Yeah, yeah |
| Uhh, try to watch your neck |
| C’mon, growin up in the X We used to play manhunt, and steal your bike |
| Fight off the older dudes who tried to steal your Nikes |
| Don’t matter if you’re outnumbered, still you fight |
| Put a nigga in the yoke, let him feel your bite |
| Livin in the devil’s reach, fuckin girls on the roof |
| and call it Pebble Beach (yeah) and even though |
| we were kids, we still knew right from wrong |
| That’s the premise, for me to even write this song |
| And laugh about who ran |
| Stick-up kids waitin outside of Jew-man (yeah) |
| And we idolized the neighborhood block stars |
| At night, throwin rocks at the cop cars |
| Shoot a fair one, you might get lumped |
| But fuck a fair one, you might get jumped |
| Knuckle up, or you might get chumped |
| Or in a car seat you might get slumped |
| Listen |
| «Shit is real!""Growin up in the hood» |
| «Done some things bad, done some things good» |
| Yeah, I used to, run the streets but always got good grades |
| Reminiscin on this shit, blowin on good haze |
| We used to dumb shit, growin up in the 'jects |
| Gettin head at Yankee Stadium, up in the decks |
| You couldn’t hop at one-sixty-first |
| And how we race each other, bettin who could push one-sixty first |
| It wasn’t always like that |
| We was broke and my father always liked smack — what could you do? |
| So my moms did the best she could for dolo (yeah) |
| Workin in midtown for next to no dough |
| I know I put her through shit |
| So I’ma smile when I put her in the new six (yeah) |
| It’s only right cause I know I used to be a mess |
| Did I deserve all the beatings or was it stress? |
| Cause I put a few kids up in the EMS |
| I laugh about it now, cruisin in the CMS |
| Yeah, it’s all funny when I think back |
| Sippin Private Stock, but now I don’t drink that (nope) |
| Now I’m into mango juice and crushed grapes (yes) |
| We used to fiend for them clear Cold Crush tapes (yes) |
| And I went from hoppin trains and snatchin links |
| To ridin around with bombshells in matchin minks |
| This is not rhethorical innuendo (yeah) |
| At house parties throwin leathers out the window, smarten up I can tell you a dummy (uh-huh) |
| You look soft, niggaz sell you a dummy |
| You come back and get wrapped like a mummy (a mummy) |
| So you should always keep a pound by your tummy |
| And I posess a +Dangerous Mind+ like Phifer |
| From listenin to the Gods in the cipher |
| Seen a few dudes get a universal |
| There’s cameras in the 'jects, live no commercial |
| Listen |