JUST WON
(Verse I)
I remember back in the day when I was young
Little kid on the block that was my hood spot
Corner liquor store a few n***as got shot
Up to no good trying to elude the cops damn I should told my pops
Now I
Some of yall haten n***as make me wanna to laugh
I swear in every hood it was a candy lady store
Living in the ghetto you gotta lock ya front door
Don
I get high like them shoes hanging from the power lines
People scared to come out side so they look through they blinds
Mess with one in my click you gotta mess with us all
I don
I
And yall cats can pull burners if ya want to
Cuz my click can pull burners just as quick as your
Or we can throw blow for blow like real men
I aint trying to merk now I want some children
This is for my peeps on the block hustling
Why does the rich keep getting richer and the poor getting poor
Chorus
Every day we on the blocks, and we steadily running from the cops
Watching all of my hommies getting shot
And we keep praying and we praying but the sh%$ won
Every day we on the watch, cuz jealous n***as always want we got
We pushing whips chrome rims drop tops
We on the rise yes we the Chop Docs
(Verse II)
At a young age I seen men selling crack
Jamacian
I seen it all, my vision is twenty-twenty
I seen twenty a germ turn to bundles of money
Walked the dark streets where the thugs park the jeeps
And spark the heat but the narcs hardly sleep
See my M.O. was to get the do and blow bust off the
4 fa sho leave
I
Tipsy off the patrune tequila and plus the Remi
Holdin the semi and that
I let the heat rise shoot
I see better days when my gat don
I
And we on the blocks with the glock to ya knot
We keep praying and we praying but this $h%# won
Chorus
(Verse III)
It
I don
He use to tell me that the truth lies within the soul
And the potential that I have would shine bright as gold
I know we in the last days cuz I seen thugs cry
Judge locked
Don
I get you high like you been smoken cleanse you up like terpentine
In my mind I
Gat in da tuck laser guided infared to ya head
I zone like the stratosphere collapse from an earthquake
After my times up archeologist digging my rhymes up
I
In my hood you need a knife and a mashedy
From time to time I think about the sh** that I seen
Reality often seems like a bad dream
Chorus