IP - Page 37 lyrics

[Produced by I.P.] [Verse 1: Vinnie Dewayne] Yeah... 3700 block... Woosley Ave My vision gettin' clouded on this North Side sh** The homie house got shot up where he tryna raise his kids In the vill, yellow tape wrapped around where they play Basketballs in the net, bullets all in they neck Put a hole in a n***a, dig a hole in the earth Before your bro is on a shirt, you return the pain first It ain't ever gon change, it's deep rooted im seeing These n***as are running off pride "let me build my rank up before I die" Let him show his older homies he ain't the n***a to try Most times, see they enemies and shoot into the sky I can tell when a n***a tryna fit into a crowd Rather then being built for that lifestyle You can't reach your pops, you can't reach the school Smokin at the bus stop, tellin n***as bout your tools Your fam don't see you, and love don't see you Take another n***as life, pray the judge don't see you... Understood [Hook: Vinnie Dewayne] Turn to page 37, it was written for a n***a not to blow This is page 37, catch a body broad day they'll never know Turn to page 37, it was written for a n***a not to blow This is page 37, cops guilty and the judge will never know [Verse 2: Vinnie Dewayne] A reflection of this militant society they built We move like the government for higher power in the field They point the finger at the n***as shooting at the parks But they don't want to take it back to where it starts It's poison in the hood, brain cells gone before growth A n***a got to watch his mom dissolve off the dope Planted by who? Not the n***as empty handed It's coming from a source, the Feds can only see it granted Give me a clean slate, too late, I understand These cuffs on my hands, from the jump was a plan I'm giving y'all a clue, there's some clucks in they klan Corruption is the motive, gentrify all the land Urine test in they cup, they send it to the lab But they hire family members like its nothing in they past No wonder why it's 48 grams in this bag Serving to the college kids living off they dads [Hook: Vinnie Dewayne] Turn to page 37, it was written for a n***a not to blow This is page 37, catch a body broad day they'll never know Turn to page 37, it was written for a n***a not to blow This is page 37, cops guilty and the judge will never know [Verse 3: Vinnie Dewayne] Four n***as strapped in a cutla**, that's a full ride No scholarship, that's an empty hollow ship Them sneak waves hit you if you want to play two sides Watch who you rocking with them n***as snitching on they documents I pray my n***as in that lifestyle never get caught slippin I'm on my grind, and all these calls I'm missing Can be a homie dead but I can't pause the way they living They way too far in it, I hope this life time forgive them Welcome to The St. Johns Scholar