[Produced by No I.D.]
[Intro: James Fauntleroy]
Thousand lives ago
We were young, and we didn't know
We were trading our crowns for our souls
Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light
But be careful, don't drown in the gold
I know it glows, but it's cold
[Sample: Curtis Mayfield]
I'm from the other side of town, out of bounds
To anybody who don't live around
I never learned to share or how to care
I never had no teachings about being fair
[Verse 1: Common]
Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?
And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces
The concrete matrix, street organizations
They gave violations, hood public relations
It was the basics to get big faces
Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces
The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters
They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us
The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush
Crack babies, mamas a-push, we were the products of Bush
I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci
A bad ho to BBD "Do Me"—you heard of Flukey?
Stokes? It was folks and coke and dope
Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope
Rare jewels of a generation, diamonds, blinding us
Some real shit we facing
Forties wasting on seats, Dion making the beats
When they air it out on at the parties, we escaping the heat
"I could break it down, like, whatever you need"
He squinted his face and rolled the weed
[Interlude: James Fauntleroy]
You know, what they don't see sometimes—that in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing. It's the same thing over and over again. Feel me?
Oh-oh, ooh-ooh, ooh
[Verse 2: G Herbo]
Have you ever heard of No Limit (One-three), 300, 600? (300)
Follyboy, O-Block (Huh?), Eastside (Yeah)
Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride (Them heats ride)
Ain't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lying? (They keep lying)
Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dying (They keep dying)
Used to post up on that strip, I looked like a street sign (I'm out here)
I've been out there three days, and I got shot at three times (Damn)
Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine
I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind (That's fucked up)
I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up (What?)
But they can catch me later, I been cooling, chasing paper (Bands)
Where I come from, ain't no hope; if you was claimed, then that was major (Major)
Small crib, big fam', Mom was working, Granny raised us (Raised us)
No food in the 'frigerator, I was banging, pulling capers—that's real shit (Real shit)
Same niggas from Day One, boy, yeah, I'm still with (I'm still with)
Better watch out for that jump shot, 'cause they will hit (Swish)
Homie take your shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit
I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it (Nah)
Feds building cases, judges who racist and full of hatred
I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen (Huh)
[Break: James Fauntleroy]
Oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh, oh
Ooh, ooh
Yeah, ah-ah
Mm-mm-mm-mm
Mm-mm-mm
Mm, mm
[Outro]
Coming inbound, forty six minutes from 355. Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in. Lake Shore Drive's heavy south. North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park. Tri-State heavy, south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp. Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM
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