Lyrics Corner Store Candy - Solomon Childs

Corner Store Candy

Let’s start before the triple beams, and my platinum dreams\nGettin kicked off the Little League teams\nThink I was thirteen, far from a thug\nNever the violent type, back in the days\nNever fit the criminal ways, never was raised to go sideways in the maze\nIt’s Special Ed, get the Caesar ate, nappy afro wit acne\nSlum bum, I’mma key, whatever happened to real brothers like Fred G (I don’t\nknow)\nBaby Bliss, Bottom B. Rick and B.D. (That's right, that’s right)\nAnd mama said I be actin wrong, spittin game in the drug game\nGod paid to skeet bock, give me a nickname\nThe D.A. did it all wrong, went and laid up too long\nStop writin rhymes, startin writin songs\nAnd I love all my crew, funny what money could make you say and do\n(Taste like candy.) and platinum dreams\nI think a man’s life ain’t always what it seems (corner story candy)\nRunnin from wrong teams and crush ya dream\nI think a man’s life ain’t always what it seems (candy)\nReminiscin', wishin the God, never driven the crown\nThat was some years later, keep the kids shined\nCan’t hide wit pride, dealin wit money\nNow I’m bona-fied, Solomon Childs’ll reign worldwide\nThinkin back what mama love can only afford\nA '79 Ford, that’s what copped diamonds and change\nRocked minks, pushed the black Accord, the God in Billboard\nAnd I’m proud to be alive, mama in community meets, tears fall from my eyes\nAnd when they ask why she cry\nMy baby’s dream always were big from the size, of since 5\nPolice said he would never survive\nBut now my baby boy’s on the front of the Vibe\nThem old timers be in front of the store\nSayin that you write better when you hurt more\nAnd that’s real…\nJ.R., what? Gonna live on, hah-hah\nThis is for the money, word we got it\nRight now it’s time to get those notes, yo\nWent from backpacks to briefcases, mixtapes of Ron G\nCraig G., Red Alert, S&S, and Funkmaster Flex\nNow the opposite sex is vexed from back in the days\nGivin no respect, mama said «baby enjoy ya life, take care of ya kids and wife»\nStyle is Caribbean vacations, me and Sabrina sippin champagne playin PlayStation\nWent from dust bones to rulers, jail cells to buildin wit the old schoolers\nLiftin iceberg skirts and sippin wine coolers\nI used to yell, through a jail cell, that the money would come well\nThink forever rest well, young drop the jew-el\nHe said, «son, never you dwell, cuz the day you repel, your thoughts’ll excel\nAnd ya whole town’ll wanna get down wit you personal»\nAll of them (uh-huh, uh-huh) every last one of them (uh-huh, uh-huh)\nIt’s like yo son, all them chicks who be tryin to disrespect you (uh-huh,\nuh-huh)\n(Taste like… candy) And look past you, all them dudes\nWho be tryin to act like they really tryin to feel you (uh-huh, uh-huh)\nThey all gonna feel you one day, just keep doin ya thing\n(Taste like… candy)