Sick Jacken - The Sickside ft. B-Real | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Sick Jacken
• The Sickside ft. B-Real

Let me tell you about my hood, let me tell you about my block
So many hoodlums, so many cops
Two ways out, get paid or in a box
One way to win, do what you can and shake the spot
Slugs, pills, a lot of drug deals and thugs killed
It’s all for money and the power cause the buck’s real
And if you’re scared homie you can cop a church, kneel
Pray to God, see if he even gives a f**k still
There’s no religion, just these concrete saints
That only kneel when the sharpness shanks
In the street and in the holding tanks
In the west by the ? banks
Where in war does your army rank?
Soldier, I seen this s**t young
That’s my poison tongue
Only spits about my boys with guns
Fire got you shook, you only hear the noise and run
And that fear makes extortion fun
You ain’t the one

[Chorus]

If all hoods are the same, let me tell you about mine
All these young kids doing street level crime
Some on the run and some doing time
We gotta turn these kids to a sickside mind

Cali is sick, New York is sick
Chi-town sick, the whole block sick
When you’re out on the street doing dirt with your clique
Just remember the legit gets the law of the dick

[Verse 2]

Now I don’t want to be stuck with this bad luck s**t
All you mushed out bitches I can’t f**k with
This whole subject is painful, I love it
We share the stories not meant for the public
We struggle to get here, next year new story
Taking over, wait’s over, best feel the change over
What it took to prosper, no apologies to offer
Got the best you can put on a roster
Psycho sick, assassins sick
Every now and then we need a revolution
So we spray the hallways
You’re in a haze when the song plays
And you don’t want to come at us the wrong way
It’s only for some, this crazy ass city we run
It’s in our blood, we live and die by the gun
Wipe your tears or the blood right in front of your eyes
This city is cold and she don’t cry when you die

[Chorus]

If all hoods are the same, let me tell you about mine
All these young kids doing street level crime
Some on the run and some doing time
We gotta turn these kids to a sickside mind

LA is sick, New Jersey is sick
Beantown sick, the whole block sick
When you’re out on the street doing dirt with your clique
Just remember the legit gets the law of the dick

[Verse 3]

I’m from a crooked angle, eh homie make my dust angel
This city block got me locked in a tight strangle
Graffiti bombs, see these walls by the knife angle
At least too raw, milli wars and the stars spangled
That’s what the ? is for, exercise the art of war
In the hood but not in yours, that’s when the shotties rock
Watch where you’re at man, the streets in a constant spar
Don’t try to be a hero, that’s what the cops are for
The lifestyle we lead is money, whiskey, and weed
And gun battles make it risky indeed
No money, more problems got my city in need
It’s CA all day where we hustle and bleed
Scrape the Cali concrete for dope
Stay hungry in the street cause this music s**t’s about to blow
Trying to stay out of the county so I dodge the law
And these enemies that plot my fall, f**k em all

[Chorus]

If all hoods are the same, let me tell you about mine
All these young kids doing street level crime
Some on the run and some doing time
We gotta turn these kids to a sickside mind

Atlanta is sick, Philly stay sick
Texas sick, the whole block sick
When you’re out on the street doing dirt with your clique
Just remember the legit gets the law of the dick

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