Chorus(Sigel)

I know it's hard in every hood I know

Struggle in every ghetto I know

But not like the one I know

I see the law in every hood I go

They throw metal in every hood I know

But not like the one I know



(Oschino)

We all started innocent

Eating Reese's Pieces

I was young, then wearing 5 star Aleses

Bullet in ya gut a have a bag catch ya feces

20 months, vision quest, sleeping in a tepee

Since my dad died, attitude worsened

That's why I stole cars before I could write cursive

Thousand miles from being rich, stuck on my grind

Try to sale nickel bags like Louie Baton

I'm young, I'm good, best shape of my life

One shot from big shit a blow you out of ya Nikes

Only a dick head wouldn't wanna be rich

And do his car like school and drop out in the 6

You could look at my wrist, It wasn't shit on it

But I was determined to get a little gliss on em

The 40 ounce bottles done turned to Cris on em

And every bitch that was fronting, I'ma piss on em



[Beanie Sigel]

My hood dog

Like any average one

You know the dirty kids on the block having fun

Hand to hand is how the grams is slung

In tanned Timberlands and (?) until them vans a come

It's all good now

But you remember those latter days

Them tubleware, soul food platter days

That was ya mom little hustle on a Saturdays

Back then, when it really didn't matter days

You would take that beating

Cause you wasn't trying to be

the only one who missed the house party on the weekend

Knowing that them project chicks was in there freaking

Grinding off "As We Lay"

Walk with me yall

Back in the Day, you and ya man slap tapping away

Pitching chains, playing craps everyday

Getting high on the block

Green bottles of private stock

2 dollar 40's

Sparks tell ya story



[Chorus]



[Sparks]

I come up fragile and timid

Pressed to the limit

12 years old, no household

from the start I was finished

Disowned by the biologicals

And adopted by rolling stones on corners, sipping Thunderbird

Banging needles and pushing stolen Regals

And with no hoe and no money, layered my hunger pains daily with rice and gravy

Stuck between a rock and a hard spot as a juvenile

Just made me wanna holla "Lord help me"

But I had will power

Stole a burner from Uncle Lester

And that .22 long blossomed to wild flower

Now when I enter rooms the conversation stop

And them cock suckers whisper

These faggots ain't got no cahunas

So if they so much as touch me

I cock back and put like bananas on them mokey motherfuckers

Show no love for these cock suckers

Weeping

Who can't deal with life situations cause that's money to me

Uhh

Murder



[Freeway]

Now who am I

Little nigga named Free from the hood

What I do

Make a living, make a killing in the hood

What I'm trying to do now

Get my children out the hood

Before the ATF start coming

plot, plot on

Now who am I

Little nigga named Free from the block

What I do

Make a living , make a killing on the block

What I'm trying to do now

Get my children off the block

And my real niggas, if they coming, clique come on

In my hood, F-R-double uh

Cock back, double pump

You rapping, I just happen to have some space in the trunk

89' dough, space in the front

Will ya hoe fit?

Beef come, we be dumping the whole clip

Having lunch, while you be fronting, be fucking ya hoe sick

Send her home, can't hump

Send my nigga's through ya block, can't pump

Grind, watch for the cops

Shit tucked

I'll be watching them lady CO's if I slip up

Uh Uh



[chorus 2]

I know it's hard in every hood I know

Struggle in every ghetto I know

But not like the one I know

I see the law in every hood I go

They throw metal in every hood I know

But not like the one I know

I know it's coke in every hood I know

It's no joke in every hood I know

But not like the one I know

I know it's rough in every hood I know

It's fucked up in every hood I know

But not like the one I know



[Chris and Sigel talking]

Yo, I'm saying Mac, I know I'm young and all

(Yeah that's whats up?)

But I been through a little struggle too

(What you been through?)

Lot of crazy shit dog, ya know?

(Shit Don't tell me, you got opportunity to tell the world)

Feel this dog

(Speak ya story, Yung Gun)



[Chris]

Yo I was brought up in the wildest streets

Where niggas pack everyday, and everybody crowd to eat

24/7, no time to sleep

A g and up, reing up, 3 times a week

Throwing numbers on the strip

The yungin out the clique

Moves like Carl Lewis when it's coming out the clip

Uh, Still in school, all the learning I can get

Focused, trying to purchase all the burners I can get

I know plenty niggas fell, trying to chauffer through this shit

These niggas tell, then a murder gon exist

It's no joke in the hood

Especially when the boat ain't make it across

and we ain't got no coke in the hood

That's where rap come in at, more notes in a book

Dro in the woods, Mom dukes trying to lay low in the woods

(raps to fade)