| […I think underground is
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| Whatever, your mood or your feelings might be at the time
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| So long as it’s the truth… truth… truth…]
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| I could tell the pimped-est story
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| About street homicide, and make it sound gory
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| Cause you know, shit be happenin everyday
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| And then on the weekends twice as much shit comes into play
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| So I better watch my back or
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| I might get caught up, in a fuckin crack war
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| So I use the back door, cause the front ain’t safe
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| Seven different brothers got stuck and I don’t wanna be the eighth
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| Don’t make no sense
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| Walkin through my own neighborhood I feel tense
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| Don’t wanna carry no gun
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| Cause the cops be stoppin us, and pattin us down just for fun
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| So, the only protection I got
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| Is my smitties, but how many kids get shot
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| Fuckin that throw up your hands shit
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| And fight like a man but he don’t get to land shit
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| Not one punch, the only hit
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| Was when his head hit the concrete, got knocked clean off his feet
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| Got a lot of blood on they shoes
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| But they got that Rolex, and jumped in the cruise
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| Late model Sedan, either blue or black
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| Was the only description, no plates in the back
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| I know one thing, they ain’t from around here
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| But what block would dare to come down here
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| Stickin up shit, must be new jacks
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| Trying to get a rep, they better watch they backs *echoes*
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| They better watch they backs!
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| Cause my man Shiloh, is out on the prowl
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| With some East Medina, brothers that’s foul
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| Lookin to protect, the streets that our mothers
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| Have to walk on, from black young brothers
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| It’s bad enough, that if I walk through a white
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| Neighborhood, that, I gotta be prepared for a fight
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| Why should I be scared of the dark?
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| Scared on a brother that be lurkin in the park
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| I oughta be safe in a black neighborhood
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| But someone’s always up to no good
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| Niggas ain’t never gonna make no progress
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| Killin one another, but you know I guess
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| I’m feelin thirsty, I’m goin to the store
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| If anybody calls, I went to the store!
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| Well it’s quiet on the block tonight
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| Everything is peaceful, I’m feelin alright
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| Yo there go Dino, and little Jamar
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| And yo that must be, a stolen car
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| I think they see me, they puttin up the two
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| Fingers meaning peace, then check what they do
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| Come pullin up in an eighty-three Deuce and
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| Jump out the car and start producin
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| Automatic handguns, both of them got one
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| Some kid in the backseat sticks out a shotgun
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| It can’t be, but I guess it can
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| That I know the kids in the black Sedan
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| I oughta be safe in a black neighborhood…
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| Why should I be scared of the dark?
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| I oughta be safe in a black neighborhood (repeat 8X) |