Lyrics :
I know you could feel the magic baby Turn the motherfuckin' lights down Esco, what up? What up, homie? I mean This is what you expected ain't it? Let's go Turn the music up in the headphones Yeah, that's perfect You gotta take your time make a nigga wait on this motherfucker Make a nigga mad and shit like Niggas usually start rapping after four bars nigga go in I could start dancin' in this motherfucker Yeah Yeah We just come out of nowhere I feel like a black republican, money I got comin' in Can't turn my back on the hood, I got love for them Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in 'em Probably end up back in the hood, like f*ck it then Huddlin' over the oven, we were like brothers then Though you were nothin' other then the son of my mother's friend We had governin' who would have thought the love would end Like ice cold albums, all good things Never thought we'd sing the same song that all hoods sing Thought it was all wood grain, all good brain We wouldn't bicker like the other fools, talk good game Never imagine all the disaster that one could reign Could bring, should blame the game and I could It's kill or be killed, how could I refrain Forever be in debt and that's never a good thing So the pressure for success can put a good strain On the friend you call best, and yes it could bring Out of the worst in every person, even the good saint' And though we rehearsed it, it just ain't the same When you put in the game at age sixteen Then you mix things like cars, jewelry, and Miss Thing
Jealously, ego and pride and this brings It all to a head like a coin, cha-ching The route of evil strike again, this could sting Now the team got beef between the post and the point This puts the ring in jeopardy Indefinitely I feel like a black republican, money I got comin' in Can't turn my back on the hood, I got love for them Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in 'em Probably end up back in the hood, like f*ck it then I feel like a black militant takin' over the government Can't turn my back on the hood, too much love for them Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in 'em Probably end up back in the hood, I'm like f*ck it then I'm back in the hood, they like 'Hey Nas' Blowin' on purp, reflecting on they lives Couple of fat cats, couple of AI's Dreamin' of fly shit, instead of them grey skies Gray 5's, hate guy, wishin' our reign dies Pitch sling pies and niggas they sing 'Why?' Guess they ain't strong enough to handle their jail time Weak minds keep tryin' follow the street signs I'm standing on the roof of my building, I'm feelin' The whirlwind of beef I inhale it just like an acrobat Ready to hurl myself through the hoops of fire Sippin' eighty proof, bulletproof under my attire Could be the forces of darkness Against hood angels of good that form street politics Makes a sweet honest kid turn illegal for commerce To get his feet out of them Converse That's my word!
I feel like a black republican, money keep comin' in Can't turn my back on the hood, I got love for them Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in 'em Probably in the back in the hood, I f*ck it then I feel like a black militant takin' over the government Can't turn my back on the hood, too much love for them Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in 'em Probably end up back in the hood, I'm like f*ck it then
