These are the days streets flooded with criminal ways
Youngins who misbehave,
hollering,
rhyme,
tape,
cops collaring
In the hood we rock wallering,
untamed in North Felice with low tolerance
Organized syndicate built street reconnaissance,
honoring
Falling comrades to ratchets,
firing this renaissance
Blocks alive with ambience,
go bananas on people with monkey wrenches
Like Donkey Kong,
graveyard ship on a strip,
where oars gon' be swarmed
Freaks out at night sucking glass pipes,
numbing their qualms
From the jaws of central bookings,
out of Brooklyn,
boogers,
storms all crooked
Flattened chunks,
it's heavy metal in they palms,
deep breath before the plunge
Calm before the quiet storm,
weak flesh,
faces deaf when riots form
Once and for all,
till all's said and done,
murder like the red and rum
Leads spittin' up outta guns,
days of our lives inside the slum
These are the days of our lives now we're living in,
we're living in the days of our 2016
Nothing to lose,
feel like I got nothing to prove I bet y
'all couldn't live for a day in my shoes,
rarely amused
I'm just a slew of bad news,
with a very short fuse,
already lit when I move
Sag off booze,
intoxicating bad attitude,
lock the block and avenue,
defying the view
Standing accused,
banging them tools,
agonizing the food,
living the duel,
with money,
fame,
riches and jewels
Less than produced,
bitching Kane in the jungle was cool,
the reason that I fought a case and dropped out of school
Ain't it the truth,
release my pain inside of the boot,
for 150 proved for the streets and the youth
The bricks and the tar,
zero cell blocks in the yard,
shelters and welfare,
hood livin' is hard
I'm not playing with a full deck,
born a wild card,
starved and deeply sawed,
half devil and half god
These are the days of our lives now we're living in,
we're living in the days of our 2016
All the bumps like the liver's orphan,
things seem to harden faster than ever soften,
stealth shots to avoid the coffin
The street smoke got me coughing,
rusted liquor stumbling when I'm walking,
the streets is watching and they talking
about who'll be the next Christopher Walken
The flood the hood with cracks in the dolphins,
guns and extortion,
play the block,
low key,
balls bang like Thor's hammer
Dipped from Johnny Law,
escaping the drift of the slammer,
fluent in gutter crammer,
sections flooded with bandanas
The ghetto bananas and water,
Alabama,
Crenshaw to Atlanta,
I'm a bad mama jammer,
spit a banger like my hood's on a chair with rusty hangers
Hip hop went from the block to rolling with hard rocks,
boom box to bitchin' rock,
poppin' lock to poppin' glocks,
in my blood it duck knocks
Locks ripped and hot clocks,
hip scotch and spit hot,
grilling spots like Hitchcock
These are the days of our lives,
now we're living in,
we're living in the days of our 2016