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(feat. Talib Kweli) |
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[Zion I] |
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Yeah, yeah, hey |
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The cityscape where I stay is gettin hot now |
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Unemployment is high and buildings is gettin chopped down |
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Gold teeth populating the block |
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Slurring slang they ignite on the lookout for cops |
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Make the shots ring out like the liberty bell |
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No escape from the heat that's getting hotter than hell |
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Like the oven's on broil, with blood stains in the soil |
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Pimped on in the colors of crown royal |
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And little sister's got a baby on hip |
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And her momma never home so the cycle is sick |
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Young ballers on the court wanna play in the league |
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But got knocked in the spot for a quarter of weed |
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It's getting hot in here, baby leave on your clothes |
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Much more to living life than emulating them hoes |
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I try to speak truth in the form of my flows |
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But the temperature is rising it's harder to grow, fo' sho' |
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[Hook: x2] |
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Gotta keep my head up (yeah) |
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Even though I'm fed up (survival every day) |
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Gettin' hard to eat (right) |
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And all the drama in the street (it's gettin hot in every way) |
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[Talib Kweli] |
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Heads up, eyes open, rest in peace had quarters |
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Tunnel vision, most of us is rushing [Russian?] like a special order |
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Of stolen NIA [?] |
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The block is hot the ghetto on fire, with more narcs sales than ave |
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And barksdale from adshow to wire |
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We keep growing like hair when you die |
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Black butterfly on the rose that's preparing to fly |
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I paint a picture with the color of the orquid, it's vivid |
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Whatever kid I talk it, I spit it, I walk it, I live it |
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God bless every step and need to go through a reverend |
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Your boy used to gouge an eye out just to get into heaven |
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We live between heaven and hell like John Constantine |
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Doing crimes they confessing like a teenage drama queen |
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We were leaning now were falling down like Michael Douglas |
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I spit it fast, I gotta get it out, they might unplug it |
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And try to drug us, so I stay aware and watch out for the set up |
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Never scared to go head up, got a plan to get my bread up, and |
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[Hook] |
