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