Chuck Strangers - 34th & Beverley lyrics

[Verse 1] Late night, down wind, and they schemin on your pantie It's best to blend in, Bedra And hope your dice rolls seven, if not, phone Kevin He a friend of mine, he not really p**y But not really a tough guy, when he shot his nine Yo, he listen to doves cry, back in the days He would give me a whole eighth and walk me to the train safe Told me, grown men walk, only coward n***as strafe When I was a lil n***a, he'd show me his toast I'd follow him out to Gucci when he was coppin his loafs And now I boost the beat till the floor shake And I'm a spit the pain till the world ache No debate, speak on my n***a life Cause my mans was great at the corner store on thirty eighth Like can we get together, all riders? For a day filled with promise, Polos, and Pradas Midnight Marauders, peace to your momma She knew me as Chey, lil fat n***a always Stealing racks from the crates, wanting to bust moves Trying hard to be arrogant, parish fews The high top ones, I had the white with the blue And ain't nobody feel me but you, so bump this sh** While you sip on your brew, reminiscing on the real n***a sh** we went through, my dude, my dog Used to see you politicin up at the rim spot Q-Tip, Dre, Kanye, Demonte? and you had put me In your fifth spot, now your n***a's sh** tight Like a wrist watch, word [Verse 2] Ayo word, how they face could ever fester my feelings Man this soul too appealin, my music revealin The insides of a n***a, I heard your CD your rhymes is iller Man, you can't stand them Brooklyn guys I be all move with the lava, then you look in the eyes Hood scholar, I ain't never been to college, learned it all on my block Bread force, but it sway, word to knowledge of Pac Word [Verse 3] So East Flatbush it's disgustin, flows he bustin In the same Polo sport, my mans beside me He worried about them lil n***as in the building lobby I ain't tough, but kept a blade since them n***as robbed me Yeah the world too cold n***as shinin sh** and callin it gold, soon as your album drop, they callin it old I k** flows and jeans with no holes in 'em And all these beats got soul in 'em I'm so winnin, but you prayin I lose When I'm back in Brooklyn, I get the Choos, she like buy me black guy shoes Them socks with Birkenstocks lowkey had you amused But you still get undressed cause I need a muse Now we lit as a fuse, it's no rules to the posse If you from where I'm from, so I gave that b**h power Word, my dick is a gun, your new disc went dumb But Trey up in this b**h, you went f**in with sum