recollections of 18th and monroe

Zuri Franklin

Yuh
Yuh, yuh yuh mhm yuh
Lemme tell y'all a story man
Lemme tell y'all a story man, for real
You know how it go, shit in the city it ain't pretty, huh
Let me tell y'all 'bout this boy
He was seven years old
Always doing good
He did everything mama had told
Till he was around the hood and saw shit that he shouldn't before
And nothing ever could prepare him for how the world was so cold
Hanging around them blocks and corners he saw shit that he shouldn't have
Nigga said "Yeah, you see this brick Imma front you half
Then you gon run the city routes like a running back
I'll make the pass
Just make sure you sell them birdies like you Don McNabb"
Niggas laughed
They was missing dads and education bad
Not good at math but they knew that pack was gonna be a bag
We was young running from that 12
We ain't have no business
No they wasn't really in them books but they was 'bout them women
Don't let no nigga ever try to press you
'Member count your digits
When shit go down and 12 interrogating don't you do no snitching
So many lives that this game had took and now we steady miss 'em
Can I rewind time
So I can tell 'em that I wished they would've listened
Hanging round them hood legends that he used to idolize
Turn on the news, "Nigga what you watching?"
Oh, that's homicide
So when they got them four letters that boy he used to strategize
No this ain't right I wanna lead my niggas towards a better life
And then they came around the block and they let off them shots
Here come the cops they asked a lot
He ain't tell 'em nothing he saw
But that was the day that he realized that this here world was so cruel
It's really unfair and nobody cares
Yeah nobody play by them rules
You think they care about your feelings nigga?
No the fuck they don't
You show any emotion they tell your bitch ass go home
And if you feel away about it you better load up that chrome
Experiences like this resonate yeah they stay in my dome
'Cause what I'm witnessing I differentiate right from wrong
I take it as a sign God telling me I don't belong
Seen some wild shit
Nigga you must be tripping, psilocybin
Niggas strung out
Yeah you really tripping, Phyllis Hymen
Running around with no shoes
Niggas robbed you
Now you getting violent
But what's more important?
Getting your lick back or your baby crying?
But you steady sexing all these women
Tryna stretch they hymen
Running 'round the city
Pulling triggers, the reason bullets flying
Yet, God awakened me He kept me out the way that's divine timing
And with these stories I recount I'm talking 'bout me that's why I'm rhyming
I was that boy
This is what've I've seen

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