Home Sweet Home (Smif-n-Wessun)

This is the story of a place that we call home Where the kids pack heat when it's time to roam Everybody's on the scramble, life's a gamble Hoppin' on the white horse, tryin' to get a handle On the fast pace that we call the last race Step wit' precaution when you enter this place We got a spot on every block that makes ya dreams come true Just come correct wit' the synapses or ya doo Don't come cryin' broke, still tryin' to cop the dope What parts of no, do not you understand bro We can't afford to take shorts or be playing sports Empires need to be built, mack 10's bought Or even caught for them deceased ass hustlers And we still got the pound for ya living muthafuckas What goes around comes back to the roots See you at the revolution and Crooklyn, true We live in Brooklyn, baby We try to make it, baby We gonna make it, baby We live in Brooklyn, baby Another day, another dollar dead Pigs rushin' the crib to catch a collar, now I'm fed What the face now, me and my people's taste crown Stayin' face down, while K-9's sniffs around What they found was irrelevant, the weed 'cause They was sent to represent and 'cause a ruckus amongst us Now I got more pigs rushin' we, handcuffin' me Takin' hold of we in the custody For blushin' in, rasta boy restin' in peace After going through the bullshit, we in release To hit the streets, where the war still off for all of y'all 'cause they kept rule locked behind the wall No time at all, no fake, no jacks Perhaps when the gat spins, niggas won't even know what happen I'll be glad when my man come home 'cause in the zone muthafuckas grab ya chrome We live in Brooklyn, baby We try to make it, baby We gonna make it, baby We live in Brooklyn, baby The eye three time, as lead transpire Currency change, change from yours to mine Greenbacks talk bullshit, floats on water Pager goin' off, call comin' from headquarters I was told if the secret code appears It means some bwoy want dead, prepare for warfare Fuck the truth, we bringin' the noose for ya loose talk So think smart, or rest in parts if ya do start I fucks wit' the poor, so fuck being rich Word is bond, there's a muthafuckin' war goin' on Stand strong, on ya own two, mista Or come confront the grim ripper Black hoodie on, black dusty fatigues Bloody red afro, puffin' on the black weed (On three) He lurks in the shadow, so when you sleep in the battle That'll be, and tell ya punk lib to tattle Salute to each and every hood label truth Doin' what you gotta do to bring in the loot Huh, the time has come for armageddion Give nurture to your seeds, and load up ya guns, dunn Now catchin' vibes that somethin' ain't right Gettin' little hits, stomach fillin' up tight Damn, these little nappy head cheap trait bastards Run around town wit' the cronz trynna blast shit Ain't nuthin' sweat like the dark streets of Bedstuy Creepin' population, endin' up in C.I. Take a ride through the Flat bush side See the dread and he caught for support, hit me off wit the lye Now slide, through the ville, death row, say hello To the fam' that stick to K.I.M. that's planned Toward the east, somethin's goin' on So burn the buds, and all my people in Medina stay strong We live in Brooklyn, baby We try to make it, baby We gonna make it, baby We live in Brooklyn, baby We live in Brooklyn, baby We try to make it, baby We gonna make it, baby We live in Brooklyn, baby We live in Brooklyn, baby We try to make it, baby We gonna make it, baby We live in Brooklyn, baby