The Streets

Decypher on the beat
Viro with the speech
It’s where the pigs roll deep and even chickens hold heat
I know these streets like a butcher knows beef
I can get you a timepiece for cheap
Just creep along the railroad tracks and ask for Pete
Since a teen I’ve been having street dreams
Used to hop the train to peep the street scene
My walkman banging Wu-Tang's C.R.E.A.M
Writing rhymes in my head thinking of hair-brained schemes
New-made themes and ways to get green
Cause police sirens make it hotter than sunbeams
I get her done got no time for half stepping
Don’t wanna get slugged from a hit-and-run at the intersection
I know these streets better than close associates
So don’t be second-guessing my directions
It’s not what you know but who you do
And though it’s ugly what they can do to you
Still the streets are beautiful
You don’t know 'em you don’t know 'em homie
You don’t know 'em you don’t know 'em yo
It’s NJ all day and
You don’t know 'em you don’t know 'em yo
Uh, uh, uh
I dodge the speed traps where cops hide
Spot the blocks where the ho’s be at and find time to stop by
Then bum a ride to the town’s other side
Where me and Tone Bone first went to get high
Still know where to get them pills
Blue footballs and mellow yellows a block over that hill
I know the corners where the OGs be wilding
And the others where the young balls be freestyling
I know that road where my man crashed his van and died in '99 just like the
back of my hand
It’s up near where the barber shop is at
Where I once battled a cat to Fab’s holla back track
I know the pizza shop where Darry and Keeby rocked
Over some high school shit and Keeby cleaned his clock
I known these streets since back then
So me and them are old friends and you don’t know us, what
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I strut the alleyways with alley cats, 'til I flatten my shoes
You don’t know these avenues the way that I do
You don’t know these boulevards I be strolling on
Shopping at the weed spots 'til all the dro is gone
I leave crosswalks ignored, J-walking while passersby honk their horns
And I reply just gotta do what I gotta
I know the users, the dealers and all they’re baby mommas
I know the detours and backstreets
I know the fastest to get there if you happen to be on feet
I know every spot in the road with a pothole
And where the stick up kids roam so not to go alone
I know these streets like my home and got the cajones to walk any like it’s my
own
It won’t lower my tone cause these streets are where this poet was grown
they’re all I’ve known and