A Kid Called Roots - The Blocks lyrics

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A Kid Called Roots - The Blocks lyrics

Verse 1: (Nature) Ayo, Auxillary cops be grillin' me out patrol cars Why's my chain so big with no job? Remain so jig with no scars, infinite names Ain't it funny how the innocent change? Used to be kinda quiet A whole different way, fake permit in my wallet Until the sh** expired Learned to drive at age Twenty-Five, see I used to catch cabs Smokin' lye while my girl f** with mesc tabs Do anything just to laugh I'll cop anything to to have Rock it once, put it in a hustlers path I got signed with no rhymes wrote Wrote it quick, throwin' rhymes out for free so ya'll could know my sh** Know my zip, 11101 Pretend thug n***as own one gun Bust shots and don't run Late nights the police don't come And if you still don't know where I'm from... Chorus 10th street (96th and Spellman), 12th street, Vernon (Queensbridge), the Pub, the hill (Long island City), the thugs (thugs everywhere) , it's Real, the love (organized crime) Verse 2: (KL) Livin' life on the edge way back Now I get money and stay black Some find it funny, others hate that Reason why the angers developed Put a shell up in the chamber, let the gun smoke from the Nine I tote Ba**heads numbed off coke, a rib got broke Police slid Yo, yo, you see what they did? Alot of money to be made, now they raid the spot n***as engagin' to pop shots Aimin' to drop cops The block's hot, n***as on the roofs of houses There's a thousand n***as with schemes for gettin' figures The Bridge blossoms with gossip Chicks who co*k s** n***as who hardly wash up And they light as paper weight I guess it's safe to say my hood's got tradition Q.B. Cobolition, while you be tryin' to listen Regradless of the district we ballin' on a mission At any given moment I destroy competition Chorus Verse 3: (Kyron) f**, I hate 'em and the Fourtieth will put the chamber to their brain And bang 'em You violatin' Q.B.? had to lay 'em I'll serve you if you onto that Hit 'em up with all of that Seventeen, applaudin' they gat, I wrote a song to that Twist the erb, dispose of that sack, ain't no more of that It's 2:30 am black, where ya Daughter at? The truth hurt, now I'm up in shorty boo's skirt Take a sip of Jack D and relax G, it attracts me You wanna know who's Donnin' these hoes? just ask me The way the j**els flash makes 'em wanna be nasty Cuban Link cable, Dom Peri on the table Look unstable, now I see why Brother Cain k**ed Abel Love thy neighbor, we can live in the World Thats your Man Fifty Grand 'till he f**s your Girl Now it's all out war over that who*e Deja vu got you buggin' 'cause you know you saw this before Chorus