Crooked I
Hard On Da Blvd.
Verse 1
I know communication is the key
But I don't like to talk much, I only like me
The streets drove a boss nuts
I can still remember all the blood my homie coughed up
Laying on the streets dying
Me I'm like 'Oh Fuck'
I picked him up, he was heavy but i had to hurry up
Laid him in my chevy truck doing about a steady buck
Heaven help my homeboy, his life is already fucked
Momma was a crack head, sucking dick for petty buck
My pops was on heroine, his childhood set him up
For this very day where he would lay cos somebody wed him up
Walking through the emergency room, my homie losing consciousness
He gon die if he don't get surgery soon
Keep him alive, the doctor sense an urgency loom
For me is get back, we certainly gooms
I was there when he flat life, cos they effers never revived him
Had to tell his momma and his two sons who survived
Can't eat can't sleep
Crubbing my homie's blood off my back seat
Gun full of slugs ready to clap heat
Madder as my attitude increases
This gat I use get at a dude
The blamer shed avenues to pieces
Innocent bystanders said you had to lose your nieces
For my n***as in the coffin rockin' Patin shoes increases
JESUS
I really know what beef is
But I also know what [?] over a new leaf is
Like a caterpillar I need my life rearranged
Music is my caccoon, it's time for a change x2
[Outro]
It's hard on the boulevard
[?] on them avenues
Casualties on every side
Real n***as having fueds
All I ever had was a pistol and a attitude
Time for a change, Obama ain't mad at you