What goes on, on the streets. Told through a poem. Told through A tone that goes along with a beat! Beautiful!
Hustlers, pimps, prostitutes play!
Transactions bring satisfaction
To both hands that meet.
Each of them feeding
Each others addiction.
Dickie pants, White T’s
White ree’s, Gold chains!
Let me get something for 13?
Fool!
You better get out of here
Lifting my shirt
Showing you your opponent
Crash!
A bottle smashed!
She stays chasing her man.
I got a surprise for you
A lighter
A cigar, I place in her hand
She lights, Shots ignite.
Run! Run!
Move Faster!
Move faster than blood that runs down the drain
Bumping beats
Siren speaks
Bumping beats
Siren speaks
I head to retirement, just for 5 to 10
A younger man
Who thinks he has a smarter plan
Steps in
I yell through the letter
Stay off the corner!
I yell through the letter
Stay off the corner!
Guess what?
He didn’t hear me,
Cause now he sits near me
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