T-Bone Hard Streets (Featuring Tracy Lane) lyrics
Songwriters: Campbell, Warryn; Sotomayer, Rene; Brown, Louis
See I was only 16 such a tender age
A young seed leaving my home in search of ghetto fame
Momâs begging me to stay
Crying but yo I gotta make it on my own now
Iâm tired of hustling, plus Iâm almost full grown now
Packed up my bags in now pursuit of my dreams
Gave her a kiss then wiped the tears
From eyes so that she couldnât see
Jumped in the car starring up at the stars
Rhyming for hours hoping one day, Iâm a hear the applause
Now Iâm 17, still broke loc, no money
Holes in my shoes
And people laughing 'cuz my clothes crummy
No food to eat so now Iâm digging in the trash can
Eating left over food from last week in tha bags man
I never thought that it could get this hard, pray to God
Then I get to stepping, 'cuz I know that Iâm called
I told myself I gotta keep the faith living inside
Knowing Iâll make it one day
So I canât just lay down and die, I gotta try man
What are these hard streets doing to me
Ghetto running through me
Thicker than blood, down in the mud
Trying to come up, these hard streets do it to me
Ghetto running through me
Thicker than blood, down in tha mud
Trying to come up another day
Itâs 1991, getting older now
Kicked out my crib nowhere to live
Wit problems and the world on my shoulders now
If I go home
Mom will think Iâm a loser
And if I call the homie
Then heâll think Iâm trying to use em
So now Iâm stuck, sleeping on my managers sofa
Even though I know heâs ripping me off
Trying to play me like a game of poker
Congested wit depression
I proceed to try and count my blessing like
The fact Iâm still alive, I could have died on these mean streets
'Cuz they ainât kind
So many killers and dealers committing horrible crimes
Dope fiends, drive-byâs, muggers and drug smugglers
No one expecting me to make it 'cuz Iâm from the gutter
A young G from the streets of killa cal
Where riders pack heat and smoke weed as a juvenile
Itâs all good though, Iâm out to prove em all wrong
Reach for the stars and show em one day Iâm a be the bomb
Iâm sick of all the heartaches, let downs
Broken promises and feeling hopeless
Iâm tired of being rejected and all the disappointments
Feeling like I ainât worth a dime
Partners telling me Iâm the greatest, but thereâs no deal to sign
Crying, devastated and confused at the same time
My mind is telling me to quit and Godâs saying try
My heart is telling me itâs over and Iâll never rhyme
But somethingâs telling me prevail and it will be fine
See thereâs always so much drama
From tha block or ya babies mama
In these streets thatâs where my peeps be running that game
Why ya trying to run me over
Like Iâm trying to snatch ya corner
In these streets gotta get your grind on
All day long gotta grind get ya hustle on
Hard Streets (Featuring Tracy Lane) lyrics © Wet Ink Red Music; Emi April Music Inc.
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