Mr. Walt - Home Sweet Home lyrics

[Intro:] Yo, straight up For all the cannabis sativa smokers out there Bucktown, we doin' like this, check it out [Tek] This is the story of a place, that we call home Where the kids pack heat when it's time to roam Everybody's on a scramble, life's a gamble Hoppin on the white horse, tryin to get a handle On the fast pace that we call the last race Step wit precaution when you enter this place We got a spot on every block to make ya dreams come true Just come correct wit the snaps is all ya do Don't come cryin broke, still tryin to cop the dope What parts of no, do not you understand bro? We can't afford to take shorts or be playing sports Empires need to be built, mack 10's bought Or even caught from them deceased a** hustlers And we still got the pound for y'all living muthaf**as What goes around comes back to the roots See you at the revolution in Crooklyn, troop [Hook] We live in Brooklyn baby We try to make it baby We gonna make it baby We live in Brooklyn baby [Steele] Another day, another dollar dead Pigs rushin the crib to catch a collar now I'm fed What I face now, me and my peoples taste ground Stayin face down, while K-9 sniffs around What they found was irrelevant to we cuz They was sent to represent and cause a ruckus amongst us Now I got more pigs rushin we, handcuffin me Takin hold of we, into custody For questioning bout some boy restin in peace After going through the bullsh**, we get released And hit the streets, where the war still on for all of y'all Cuz they kept Rule locked behind the wall No time at all to fake no jacks Perhaps when the gat spin, n***as won't even know what happened I'll be glad when my man come home Gettin his own, muthaf**as grab ya chrome [Hook (with Tek shoutin out)] [Tek] Da eyes read time as lead treads spine Currency change hands, from yours to mine Greenbacks talk, bullsh** floats on water Pager goin off, call comin from headquarters I was told if the secret code appears It means some bwoy want dead, prepare for warfare [Steele] f** the truce, we bringin the noose for your loose talk So think smart, or rest in parts if ya do start I f**s wit, the poor so f** being rich Word is bond there's a muthaf**in war goin on Stand strong, on your own two, mista Or come confront the grim ripper Black hoodie on, black dusty fatigues Bloody red eyes from puffin on the black weeds He lurks in the shadow so when you sleep in the battle That'll be a tale you won't live to tattle [Tek] Salute, to each and every hood, label, troop Doin what you gotta do to bring in the loot Huh, the time has come for armageddion Give nurture to your seeds, and load up ya guns, dunn I'm catchin vibes, that somethin ain't right Gettin little hints, stomach feelin uptight Damn, these little nappy head g-tre ba*tards Runnin' 'round town wit the cronz trynna blast sh** Ain't nothin sweet like the dark streets of Bedstuy Creep through population, endin up in C.I [Steele] Take a ride through the Flatbush side See the dread in the court for support, hit we off wit the lye Now slide, through the 'Ville, sev' flo', say hello To the fam then stick to K.I.M. as planned Toward the east, something's goin on So burn the buds, and all my people in Medina stay strong [Hook to fade]