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Heheheh.. hey yo.. |
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There's a place i know where the bitches go |
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Where they rob you for you dough and shit on the low |
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In southside.. queens, queens |
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Where if you say the ave. |
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People automatically know the path |
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You don't have to do the math |
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In southside.. queens, queens |
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I knew this nigga named donovan |
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Astonishin the way he used to handle the pill god (word?) |
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Let me speak about the way he used to dribble off his knees |
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And in the middle at the same time guzzlin a beer |
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Like a puzzle or a riddle - discoverin his path to the hoop |
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Scoop, shot, tipped up the backboard oops |
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Son got hot, never knew he woulda threw it |
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Cool nigga, when it came to school he blew it |
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A scholar in acute niggarisms and metropolitans |
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Get taller and yo donovan hey come around the block |
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Dunn got the three sons, fuckin with coupons and refunds |
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Food stamps, and still he was a champ |
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Time to get loot for boots and kicks now |
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Fuck hoops gotta impress the chicks now |
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His momma said, "donovan why are you |
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On the corner of linden," and got all rude |
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He said, "momma listen close i'ma tell you one time |
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You're killin my high, plus i got a nine |
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All i be doin is puttin in work |
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So you can get a brand new dress for church |
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I know the devil lurks outside, man it's cold |
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But i don't wanna get paid slow, and grow old |
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Like poppa - plus i'm on parole i gotta |
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Get paid off the streets, to make ends meet" |
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With the back of her hand, she smacked him in the face |
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Walked out of the crib-piece, pissed with no taste |
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That night, rockin nikes, eatin mike'n'ikes |
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Slapboxin with a dyke on a bike too small |
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Thinkin, "this time, next year, mom'll be able to.. ohhh!" |
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Shit from across the streets, niggaz approach - slow |
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Well get the metal out, too late, the guns flash |
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In the melee they wet him like reggae sunsplash |
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Sun dashed with the quickness, back into the ride |
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With a smile on his face, the picture of pride |
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Blood comin from his mouth, now i'm at his side |
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Kneelin over donovan's body before he died |
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Eyes - flutterin up and down in his head |
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And with his last breath this is what he said |
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He said, "whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?" |
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Then i closed his eyes |
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There's a place i know where the people go |
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Where you can cash dough and chill on the low |
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In southside.. queens, queens |
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Where if you say the ave. |
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People automatically know the path |
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You don't have to do the math |
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In southside.. queens, queens |
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And if you got a glock, you could bust shots |
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Like ??, when the block be hot |
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In.. what we talkin bout.. queens, queens |
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Uhh, c'mon uhh |
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C'mon.. uhh uhh |
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I know where people go.. |
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Where you can cash dough and chill on the low.. |
