South Rd

Lyrics

[Intro: Jack Nicholson from The Departed & DJ Green Lantern] In this country, one guy get the items And the other guy, pays 'em No ticky, no laundry Let's go to Southside Queens right now Grind Music, Wize G Lakewood, come on [Verse 1] Uh, uh, senseless, school is never where I learned my lessons Rooftoops with boomboxes where my searches ended Famous, I wanted ever since my mind could think it Handcuffed in the back of Impalas fo' public drinkin' If Grind Music ain't discover me I'd pro'ly be a alchi in recovery, now I'm just a addict with a one to three Contractor bring back the suckеr free Game in a choke 'til the brokе niggas live comfortably In the back of a dollar van, with the gats and a driver, man Thinkin' 'bout my mama, I just need a couple dollars, man I'ma honest, and I try to be the hardest worker Even though my pro'lems bigger, I just got a life preserver Man the streets is cold, every day it's three below And in a week or so, I might just be with Keyshia Cole My story is told, walkin' down glory's road Grindin' forever you could tell by my dirty toes [Chorus] I walk a good mile, I wear a good shoe I might just be wild, I might be brand new I talk with such style, my voice is clear blue My mic sound nice, I check ya one, two And uh, one, two, and uh If you feelin' like a gangsta, bust ya hammer If you livin' a hustler, know the grammar And if you struggle like I struggle, then nothin' matters, go [Verse 2] Vicious, I do my murder smooth like blowin' kisses My flow is known fo' switchin', prone to give you motion sickness The mic's the murder weapon, me myself's a cold defendant Exotic voice box, melodic tone disturb ya senses In front of curbs and fences, stash up a perfect sentence Trigger with urgent stressors, sellin' the herbal essences Aasim, a verbal menace, ghetto or mechanic Servin' to wear my annex, and my whole persona matches That of a soldier, schizophrenic, the newest bandit Spit in a ya food, a savage, in a mood to prove my madness Dunny, the money is funny in my pockets now I move in silence every promise microscopic now I make the honeys smile, the profile is somethin' wow I came for nothin' 'bout a mother gutter, what a style Just a humble child hustle fo' the crumbs, I'm tryna run 'em down Hopin' that the streets won't try to gun 'em down [Chorus] I walk a good mile, I wear a good shoe I might just be wild, I might be brand new I talk with such style, my voice is clear blue My mic sound nice, I check ya one, two And uh, one, two, and uh If you feelin' like a gangsta, bust ya hammer If you livin' a hustler, know the grammar And if you struggle like I struggle, then nothin' matters, go