Man, these streets keep on calling me
|
Will I ever make it out of here?
|
I don't know
|
I don't know
|
I don't know
|
I don't know
|
|
Check it
|
Man, it's something 'bout that rush that you get
|
When you cut up a brick
|
When you riding by the narks right after busting a lick
|
When you put that V in park and shorty sucking your dick
|
And you do that shit so much that you fucking forget
|
It's the way they respect you, it's the way that they fear you
|
No one second guess you, when you talking they hear you
|
It's something 'bout that rubber band 'bout to pop
|
And dimes trying to hold your fucking hand walking out the spot
|
Every day's a pay day, you never try to make way
|
Feeling like JJ, dynamite in your hay day
|
They kick it like Pelé around the stair like way day
|
Wake up and say hey, spontaneous vaycay
|
They mad like boring, you try to find Advil
|
It's that type of morning, you spent last night balling
|
God spoke to me, I know that rap's my calling
|
But even with these Dre's loud I hear that fast life calling
|
|
Man, these streets keep on calling me
|
Will I ever make it out of here?
|
I don't know
|
I don't know
|
I don't know
|
I don't know
|
|
Dog, the streets used to have my number back when I had the 15 inch screen
|
Middle gun, sold it, a Hummer
|
Back when I thought it will be my last summer
|
Staring at the burner eyes wider than a plunger
|
Where on sight they would expunge you
|
Had I stayed up wouldn't have lasted long
|
Taught me everything, at my high school they didn't have classes on
|
Older niggas passed it on
|
It's a gap in our generation, these young dudes are saints
|
We used to ask who is snitching but nowadays who ain't?
|
Had to keep the 4 pound, every block had it's own pound
|
If a showdown where to go down
|
They'll turn this shit into a ghost town
|
Lost so many niggas we could be going fast
|
Honestly I don't think a morning passed, I wasn't mourning who had passed
|
And after that life expectancy we don't expect to see
|
It's a bunch of niggas breathing right now that's after me
|
And I'm one of the few that made it out the hood successfully
|
I lose all my celebrity, all my roogers left with me
|
|
Man, these streets keep on calling me
|
Will I ever make it out of here?
|
I don't know
|
I don't know
|
I don't know
|
I don't know
|
|
Every now and then you gotta demonstrate
|
Bust a nigga head for old time's sake
|
Look at what those signs say, welcome to the D
|
The city that sitting inside a mitten
|
You know the crime state
|
Where Jimmy Hoffa's body's locked away in a safe
|
At a time in a place where not even time's safe
|
I wear a hoodie to war, they talking about me now
|
I wonder would he mature? He supposed to be looking for me now
|
Claim I'm hiding from you now
|
Until you find me with my foot in your door
|
The street said I made a sex tape
|
No, the fuck I didn't
|
If I did then MTV would've nominated me for a Woody Award
|
That's off the topic, though
|
Niggas walked in my house and went shopping in my closet, dog, I'm not the store
|
With everything I do niggas still shit on me
|
See Boogie Brown told me get over it, niggas just ain't like you
|
So I'mma take good advice and move on from you, niggas
|
Try to move on, I'mma take your life
|
|
Man, these streets keep on calling me
|
Will I ever make it out of here?
|
I don't know
|
I don't know
|
I don't know
|
I don't know
|
|
-----------------
|
I Don't Know
|
| Slaughterhouse |