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Song title:
Kool G. Rap And Dj Polo - Home Sweet Home
Edit By:
216.73.216.221
[kool g. rap] Brothers on the corner sellin junk Got held up by the hotties got the shotties in the trunk You got the hardrocks wavin glocks at the punks Police only harass you when they wanna get a chunk They got so many corners and they got so many spots And I cant even bump up the block Without the, yo man, what you got? Im walkin past somebody lookin strange Hes lookin for a hit for veins Or hell blow out somebodys brains Even the shorties livin naughty lives Walkin around, even drive around, with big forty-fives I just found out the candy stores a front They walk in the candy store Man g, candys far from what they want You might see a pickle or a popsicle But if you step to the back, you get dimes, twenties, and nickels Honey used to look like a winner Now she cant even get took to dinner Cause so many dealers ran up in her Somebodys blood is on the tar Last night was a homicide from a fight inside the bar Loudmouth tryin to show her ass, but somebody Broke a whiskey bottle and cut her butt up with the glass Money got robbed for his bank They broke in his house and took everything Except the kitchen sink Little man murdered on the scene He tried to come off at the liquor store, hes only 17 Grannys damn near pushin 80 A couple of hoods grabbed her pocketbook, and stabbed up the lady Cover your head, cause its a dead zone, in the red zone Yeah, this is my home sweet home Three card molly, another man to fool Whites will stop at the red lights, to look at us like animals Im gettin frisked by the cops They only tryin to get props, for blowin off a black mans top Up in apartment 3g, this sweetie named didi wants to see me But yo I heard shes givin vd Just when you think the skies are gettin blue Bang bang -- another brothers split in two Cant sleep, cause the streets are filled with danger Miss, your little daughters a swinger, you cant change her She left with a stranger, inside a drug dealers party Now off to the morgue, to go indentify her body Sonny boy is goin on the strip Robbin niggaz cracks, with a mac, without a clip Somebody gave a tip, so the next time he flipped And shorty got ragged, another bodybag is zipped A baby is born and needs lovin But instead, the mother smothered him and shoved him in a oven Cops killin our kids, but they bill us So whats more worse, the killer cops or the cop killers Everydays another risk Im even mad to go to my pad, the hallways always smell like piss No heat, just pots of hot water Im walkin eight flights up, the elevators out of order Man that landlord is the lowest Because I let my door slam and saw a damn eviction notice I felt like breakin all his bones, pssssh Im gettin kicked out of my home sweet home *door shuts*
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