"Where I'm From" lyrics
Beanie Mack, yeah, I'm back in town
State Prop boys, Roc boys, back in town
Let's-go, let's-go
Young Guns, yeah, they back in town
P. Crakk, yeah, he back in town
State Prop boys, Roc boys, back you down
Let's-go (Go... go... go...)
O and Sparks, niggas back in town
I'm from the mean streets of Philly, where niggas try and kill me
Ain't no real homies left, I can see it clearly
Feds want to - a nigga down, half a century
If I get booked, the whole Prop' better mention me
Independently, my name in parentheses
After every sentencing, a period comes eventually
When your time stop
Fuck a comms spot, better than a pine box
Show me no sympathy
When they imprison me
Just have my books straight, commissary stacked, tell Jay he better visit me
As you can see, can't switch, my game's the ninth inning
I got three strikes pending
Crackers in the mountains got me cutting my braids
All off, no fade, but can't cut my ways
Cutthroat niggas jealous, green like relish
'Cause I'm getting the mustard - fuck it, catch-up!
You broke; but that ain't what they tell us
If you broke bank, tell us, niggas, where's your notes?
Nope! I can't see 'em
B. Sige scrap, can't be him
Commissary stacked, visits every weekend
I make power moves; S Dot shower-shoes
You're still rocking state skimpies in the shower room
All I got is fuckin' time to zone
They got me Bin Laden status - rec and cell alone
Must I remind you niggas, what a thug about?
Red light'll find you and shine you through your mother house
Four Lethal Weapons, scrap Danny Glover out
Baby wop, Mack huntin', wack trace, snuff 'em out
Yeah, rub 'em out, O.J. glove 'em out
Wop wasn't even loud, bullets just comin' out
Cops yell, "Move the crowd! Dead body coming out"
Rock him and his kids if the nigga run his mouth
I was raised at the block where my name at
Ghetto where the sun don't shine and where it rain black
If you ain't hit who you aim at
That blood-stained pavement'll tell the stories
On how them niggas came back
Where everybody named scrap, cops get flamed at
The block where they pop the pills, sip the Purple Rain at
I could take you through a tour on the ave
Where bad bitches lose their ass from the raw in the glass
Most niggas get rich off of 4 and a half
Go broke, fall victim to the straw in the bag
Where niggas lose they life over dice
Will stop in the bank and shoot for the 6, get shot with the 8 - blocka!
Where they keep the dope in the rice, the dro in the jar
The coke in the ice, the blow in the bar
Uh!
The gangstas is locked, the haters is home
Rats on the block, Feds on the phone
Walk with me, c'mon!
The county is packed, Receiving Room crowded
Real niggas keep a wap and wear their boots in the shower
Faggot niggas play their hut and never come to the yard
Niggas scream, "Allahu Akbar!" then hit up the guard
Where we live for the day 'cause we ain't promised tomorrow
Where I'm from - all we know is go hard and go harder
(All we know is go hard and go harder)
State Prop boys, Roc boys, back in town
Let's-go, let's-go
Young Guns, yeah, they back in town
P. Crakk, yeah, he back in town
State Prop boys, Roc boys, back you down
Let's-go (Go... go... go...)
O and Sparks, niggas back in town
I'm from the mean streets of Philly, where niggas try and kill me
Ain't no real homies left, I can see it clearly
Feds want to - a nigga down, half a century
If I get booked, the whole Prop' better mention me
Independently, my name in parentheses
After every sentencing, a period comes eventually
When your time stop
Fuck a comms spot, better than a pine box
Show me no sympathy
When they imprison me
Just have my books straight, commissary stacked, tell Jay he better visit me
As you can see, can't switch, my game's the ninth inning
I got three strikes pending
Crackers in the mountains got me cutting my braids
All off, no fade, but can't cut my ways
Cutthroat niggas jealous, green like relish
'Cause I'm getting the mustard - fuck it, catch-up!
You broke; but that ain't what they tell us
If you broke bank, tell us, niggas, where's your notes?
Nope! I can't see 'em
B. Sige scrap, can't be him
Commissary stacked, visits every weekend
I make power moves; S Dot shower-shoes
You're still rocking state skimpies in the shower room
All I got is fuckin' time to zone
They got me Bin Laden status - rec and cell alone
Must I remind you niggas, what a thug about?
Red light'll find you and shine you through your mother house
Four Lethal Weapons, scrap Danny Glover out
Baby wop, Mack huntin', wack trace, snuff 'em out
Yeah, rub 'em out, O.J. glove 'em out
Wop wasn't even loud, bullets just comin' out
Cops yell, "Move the crowd! Dead body coming out"
Rock him and his kids if the nigga run his mouth
I was raised at the block where my name at
Ghetto where the sun don't shine and where it rain black
If you ain't hit who you aim at
That blood-stained pavement'll tell the stories
On how them niggas came back
Where everybody named scrap, cops get flamed at
The block where they pop the pills, sip the Purple Rain at
I could take you through a tour on the ave
Where bad bitches lose their ass from the raw in the glass
Most niggas get rich off of 4 and a half
Go broke, fall victim to the straw in the bag
Where niggas lose they life over dice
Will stop in the bank and shoot for the 6, get shot with the 8 - blocka!
Where they keep the dope in the rice, the dro in the jar
The coke in the ice, the blow in the bar
Uh!
The gangstas is locked, the haters is home
Rats on the block, Feds on the phone
Walk with me, c'mon!
The county is packed, Receiving Room crowded
Real niggas keep a wap and wear their boots in the shower
Faggot niggas play their hut and never come to the yard
Niggas scream, "Allahu Akbar!" then hit up the guard
Where we live for the day 'cause we ain't promised tomorrow
Where I'm from - all we know is go hard and go harder
(All we know is go hard and go harder)
