[...i think underground is Whatever, your mood or your feelings might be at the time So long as it's the truth... truth... truth...]
Verse one:
I could tell the pimped-est story About street homicide, and make it sound gory Cause you know, shit be happenin everyday And then on the weekends twice as much shit comes into play So I better watch my back or I might get caught up, in a fuckin crack war So I use the back door, cause the front ain't safe Seven different brothers got stuck and I don't wanna be the eighth Don't make no sense Walkin through my own neighborhood I feel tense Don't wanna carry no gun Cause the cops be stoppin us, and pattin us down just for fun So, the only protection I got Is my smitties, but how many kids get shot Fuckin that throw up your hands shit And fight like a man but he don't get to land shit Not one punch, the only hit Was when his head hit the concrete, got knocked clean off his feet Got a lot of blood on they shoes But they got that rolex, and jumped in the cruise Late model sedan, either blue or black Was the only description, no plates in the back I know one thing, they ain't from around here But what block would dare to come down here Stickin up shit, must be new jacks Trying to get a rep, they better watch they backs *echoes*
[...they better watch they backs *gets steadily louder*] [guess what happened to me when I was wa-walk-wah-walkin down the street] They better watch they backs!
Verse two:
Cause my man shiloh, is out on the prowl With some east medina, brothers that's foul
Lookin to protect, the streets that our mothers Have to walk on, from black young brothers It's bad enough, that if I walk through a white Neighborhood, that, I gotta be prepared for a fight Why should I be scared of the dark? Scared on a brother that be lurkin in the park I oughta be safe in a black neighborhood But someone's always up to no good Niggaz ain't never gonna make no progress Killin one another, but you know I guess I'm feelin thirsty, I'm goin to the store If anybody calls, I went to the store!
[walkin down the, walkin down the, walkin down the block] [walkin down the, walkin down the, walkin down the block]
Verse three:
Well it's quiet on the block tonight Everything is peaceful, I'm feelin alright Yo there go dino, and little jamar And yo that must be, a stolen car I think they see me, they puttin up the two Fingers meaning peace, then check what they do Come pullin up in an eighty-three deuce and Jump out the car and start producin Automatic handguns, both of them got one Some kid in the backseat sticks out a shotgun It can't be, but I guess it can That I know the kids in the black sedan *gunshots fire*
I oughta be safe in a black neighborhood... Why should I be scared of the dark? [say fuck it put a cap in a nigga] [this type of sh-shi-shit it happens eve-eve-everyday]
I oughta be safe in a black neighborhood (repeat 8x)