*featuring Ron Isley
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Black hoods, cops 'n projects
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sewers flooded with foul blockage
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The gutter's wild and every child watches
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Changin top locks with ripped off hinges
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doors kicked off, drunks stag off smirnoff, wipe your beard off
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Crippled dope fiends in wheelchairs stare
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vision blurry, cus buried deep in they mind are hidden stories
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Bet he's a mirror image of that 70's era
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finished for the rest of his life, till he fades out
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The liquor store workers miss him but then it plays out
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so many ways out the hood but no signs say out
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Mental slavehouse where gats go off, I show off
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niggas up north, prison-ology talk, till they time cut off
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You should chill if you short, prepare deep thought
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to hit the street again, get it on, get this paper and breathe again
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Plan to leave somethin' behind
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so your name'll live on, no matter what the game lives on
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[Chorus]
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Lookin' out of my project window
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Oh, I feel uninspired
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Lookin' out of my project window
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Oh, it makes me feel, so tired
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Yo, if this piano's the cake then my words are the candles
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Light it up, make a wish, and them angels will grant you
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Impatient once tried, but in those angels and bamboo
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they lit it up, *puff* *puff*, hit it up, *puff*
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Now they dismantled, think the whole world is crazy, got a 9
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watch where you walk, 2 dollar fine, sign of the times here in New York
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Hi Satan, United Nations quietly taken, to own your soul
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take it or leave it, just my evaluation
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Stack loot and guns, teach the girls karate, school your sons not to hate
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but to stay awake, cus the scars a razor make is nothin' in comparison
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to the gas left on this whole mass, if we don't get it controlled fast
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might as well be, laughin' with Malcolm X's assassin as we die slow
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perishin', brain dead from a Erickson
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Words are the medicine, two teaspoons for goons
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a cup of it for those thuggin' it, y'all sing the tune
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[Chorus]
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Another day, another dollar, my mother will holla
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She said "go and see the world for myself, and my brother Shafala"
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Pops was smooth, from his top to his shoes
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sang the rules, guitar strings he played smokin' his ?
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? hat, picture this yo, seventies cat
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He wrote his music in the back of the crib, I did my homework
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At night the windows were speakers, pumpin' life out
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a fight, people screamin' cus somebody pulled a knife out
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So I look at this poem, I'm hooked to this tune
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every night the same melody, hell sounded so heavenly
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But jail was ahead of me, ??
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Reading's what I should've done, cus my imagination would run
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I was impatient to get out and become part of the noise out there
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I used to stare, five stories down, basketball courts, shot up playgrounds
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and I witnessed the murders and police shake-downs
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Yo, the hustlas and hoes, drugs and fo-fos
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This was the life of every kid, lookin' out project windows
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Oh, outta my window
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Lookin' out of my project window
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Oh, it makes me feel, so tired
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Lookin' out of my project window
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Oh, I feel uninspired
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Lookin' out of my project window
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Oh, it makes me feel, so tired
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Lookin' out of my project window
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Oh, I feel uninspired
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Starin out of, of my window
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Oh I, feel so tired
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Oh yeah, outta my window
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Oh, lookin' out, lookin' out
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Lookin' out my window, oh yeah
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Makes me, feel so tired
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Outta my window, out my project window
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Lord I feel, uninspired
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Project Window
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| Nas |
