A Tribe Called Quest - Crooklyn lyrics

[Hook] Straight from Crooklyn, better known as Brooklyn Never taking shorts cause Brooklyn's the borough [Verse 1: Special Ed] Panic, as another manic depressant Adolescent stares at d**h, now what's left When there ain't no guide, and a whole lot of pride It might be a homicide, so let the drama slide We don't want no problems, B Get your name in the obituary column sheet Cause life is too short and it just gets shorter I wish I had a quarter for all my people they slaughter Last year alone, in the dead zone Walk straight but don't walk late Cause I'm coming with a hate only made from what it made me Cause nobody ever played me Now it's only getting worse Buckshot and Ace in the land of the waste Kicking you in your face [Verse 2: Masta Ace] We be doing it up Crooklyn style What does it take to get you wild My mentality is getting iller, k**er Instinct that's trying to infiltrate, but wait I know you wanna enter but I can't let you in My mind state's the maddest, I'm gone with the wind Because it is survival of the fittest When the sh** hits the fan I got my shank in my hand Black man with the permanent tan I come from the 'ville and never ran, damn! [Verse 3: Buckshot] I'm feeling another part of reality Hit me when I represent the F.A.P Straight from the 'ville, Tilden played the building I mean literally when I say I make a k**ing For my cipher, see I'm finning to bust a piper Original heads represent the Brooklyn all-nighter Do or die I'm saying it's you and I Bring your click so we can get stone like Family Sly Peace to C.I. and the Bush Mighty Mateen, Ruck and the Rock giving the push [Hook x2] [Verse 4: Masta Ace] We did it like that and now we do it like this We did it like that and now we do it like this Go inside your mind and find a time that you miss And just think about the steel in your fist It's just an extension of your arm, it's that ghetto type of charm That makes all the homeboys swarm Can I drop the bomb, oh yes I can Move with the groove, smooth like Geechie Dan Who is the man, that kid there Who is the chick with the pick in her hair Angela, uhh, Davis and we roll like Avis Rent-a-Car kid, there you are [Verse 5: Special Ed] You know where to find me whenever you need me If you know the Ave, follow the path To the land of the aftermath but don't frolic in the midst Crazy a** Crooklyn kids Cause they always throwing a body on my lawn I'm getting a Rottweiler without a collar Get off my block, boy and give me a dollar For the trouble, or get blown up like a bubble [Verse 6: Buckshot] Let's take a sec to think back To the year of the 7-0 when Brooklyn was the place to go Flow on a journey up to Crown Heights Ebbets Field, feel the reel to reel on your life Trife individuals live in the PJ's Dee Evil, check my DJ, hey Play what I wanna play in the day But in the night, I feel the right took the left Bucktown, Brooklyn, break it down Heads from state to state, travel as I unravel the rate Howard, Tapscott & Sutter I remember way back in the days playing hot peas and bu*ter Brother, if you want another lesson, Crooklyn session Take it back, black Smith and Wesson [Verse 7: Special Ed] Press your luck, you get stuck by Buck for your bucks Masta Ace has the taste for ducks And duck sauce so tell Lord Digga Dig a grave for the bones, sticks and stones While I kick some ancient poems through your domes Act went back to attack your homes So, Tip, can I flip? (Yes, you can) I'm in the World War with Muhammad, my man [Verse 8: Masta Ace] Feels so good to be a Crooklyn Dodger Uh-huh, what's happening to ReRun and Roger I think I seen 'em wearing Timberlands and running down the block From Dwayne and Dwayne had a Glock Cause he be selling rock for the Partridge Family And Reuben Kincaid drives a 300-E And he be pimping Chrissy From Three's Company Plus he stuck Mr. T for all his j**elry This is a 70's thing from the days When kids didn't act so crazed in Crooklyn [Hook x2]