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The Neighborhood ft. Lil-Herb, Cocaine 80s
Common
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Thousand lives ago
We were young and we didn't know
We would trade in our crowns for our souls
Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light
But be careful, don't drown in the gold
I know it glows, but it's cold
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Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?
The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces
The concrete matrix, street organizations
The gang violations, hood public relations
It was the basics to get big faces
Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces
The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters
They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us
The era of Reagan and terror of Bush
Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush
I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci
A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?
Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope
Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope
Rare jewels of a generation
Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'
40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats
When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat
I could break it down like whatever you need
He squinted his face and rolled the weed
You know what they don't see sometimes?
That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing
It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?
Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?
Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside
Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride
Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?
Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'
Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign
I been out there three days and I got shot at three times
Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine
I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind
I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up
But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper
Where I come from, ain't no hope
If you was clean, then that was major
Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us
No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers
That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy
Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot
'Cause they will hit, or we take your
Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit
I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it
Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred
I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen
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Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355
Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in
Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago
Jammed north through Grant Park
Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge
And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp
Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes
On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM
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