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What y'all know about them wild niggas |
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Devil child niggas |
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Have-you-kick-the-bucket-say-fuck-it-and-smile-niggas |
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The type to catch the Buddha buzz, slide up to the fuzz |
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Sayin "Officer, run your shotty before I catch this body" |
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I knew this nigga Smokey, sorta like his pistol |
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Barrel when you're in peril and shit like that was wanted |
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But later that would die down, |
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Sorta like many abandoned that he ran with |
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His block felt sorta haunted |
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His only solitude was wifey, word to life, G it seemed |
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They was together forever and now the womb had been seeded |
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He needed a job and the robbin wouldn't do it |
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He wasn't tryin to go out like Diquan in Strapped |
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Her mother was a nurse, her purse was chubby |
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From the hospital she found Smokey some work and shit was lovely |
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With some cream in here, feed a patient there, he had loot |
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And not a nigga on the street would have to get that pocket tapped |
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He's workin in maternity and learnin |
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Seein much about the infant children |
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To be skilled in fatherhood |
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Stealin baby stuff home for self |
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And he didn't have to pull the Mac-20 off the shelf and get... |
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[Chorus:] |
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Loose if a brotha can't take no more |
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Loose if a brotha can't swing it |
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Loose if a brotha can't break once more |
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Loose if a brotha..... |
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[Brewin] |
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In Maternity, Smokey saw stuff, raw stuff, |
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Make-you-drop-your-jaw-stuff, hospitals get sorta wild |
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He saw some babies shakin, awakin if they were fortunate |
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His soul was scorchin, it would have thinkin of his child |
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Later there would be no "Honey, I'm home," |
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Strictly "Woman if you jeopardize my seed, dead up, I leave you wet up" |
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On the block, a flock of zombies entranced |
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By the peddlers of temporary ghetto heaven had him fed up |
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His job was gettin hard to fuck with |
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They had even had him stuck with the disposal of the stillborn |
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Poisoned by the nourishment, the ill torn soul from flesh |
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From the womb to tomb |
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Seein shit like that'll have you crazy |
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That night he had a dream |
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And it was a child nursin upon the semen of the glass genetalia |
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Clouded nut after clouded nut |
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He woke and shouted "What the FUCK is goin on?" |
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Smokey was swayze, it's time to get.... |
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[Chorus] |
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[Brewin] |
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He figured there was only one way |
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As he rushed the runway lookin wild deranged |
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This was common, without any qualm inside he was tookin |
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Lookin at fiends of the pebble adored praised, |
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Devil for lord raised from the crystallized tombs |
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Through fumes from the floor |
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Blazed the sole sacrificial altar |
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He chose now to halt the worship dealin that ultimate headrush... |
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The lead crushed, buyer or seller decoratin hell a flame |
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With the choir of the firearms to blame |
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In the mornin by the time the smoke cleared, |
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Everybody seen the massacre, the local folk cheered |
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"Oh, thank the Lord Almighty," the pharmacy was out of business |
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On the L a chubby widow cries alone because her man had gotten... |
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[Chorus x2] |
