[Intro]
Ayy, you got five?
You wanna go in there and get some Swishers?
You al-, nigga you already older than fifteen
[Verse 1: Fashawn]
I was in love with the block, call it a Avenue Jones
Through the village we just happened to roam
Knuckleheads, bad to the bone
And every single snotnose had an addict at home
I drunk vodka and juice with the fatherless youth
Every day between the hours of two, we ate tacos at Hoot
Every now and then, somebody would shoot
They hit that youngin with a stray while he was tying his shoe
Let if off then they hopped in the coupe
And nobody said a word 'bout the body on the curb
Hit the homie Flacko, that's the vato with the herb
I mean papi cool but his posse full of herbs
Got our chronic from the 'burbs
Around the same time, I was tryna learn
How to pick a lock with a hanger, load shots in the chamber
Get low from the cops and the neighbors
Boys in the hood
[Verse 2: Like]
Born and raised in Killa Cali, dreaming one day the city's ours
Young niggas hopping fences, licking chili powder
Eddie Bauers and doctors passed, Stockton to Ladera Heights
Young kids wearing Nikes, sharing bikes
Tearing mics up, kept a nice cut and the fades
Never affiliated but my niggas bang, getting paid
Shouts to my grandma, still in the Js
Coco Ave., .4-4 mag
Tucked away when the po-pos pass
Walked to the stove but don't step on the old folk grass
A 80s baby like Thrifty's and Pick 'N Save
Wear the wrong colors, might as well dig your grave
Ditch your school to throw hands, stick and move
Bagging chicks at Fox Hills like shit was cool
Different dudes, go by a set of different rules
We obviously ain't got shit to lose, boys in the hood
Ayy, you got five?
You wanna go in there and get some Swishers?
You al-, nigga you already older than fifteen
[Verse 1: Fashawn]
I was in love with the block, call it a Avenue Jones
Through the village we just happened to roam
Knuckleheads, bad to the bone
And every single snotnose had an addict at home
I drunk vodka and juice with the fatherless youth
Every day between the hours of two, we ate tacos at Hoot
Every now and then, somebody would shoot
They hit that youngin with a stray while he was tying his shoe
Let if off then they hopped in the coupe
And nobody said a word 'bout the body on the curb
Hit the homie Flacko, that's the vato with the herb
I mean papi cool but his posse full of herbs
Got our chronic from the 'burbs
Around the same time, I was tryna learn
How to pick a lock with a hanger, load shots in the chamber
Get low from the cops and the neighbors
Boys in the hood
[Verse 2: Like]
Born and raised in Killa Cali, dreaming one day the city's ours
Young niggas hopping fences, licking chili powder
Eddie Bauers and doctors passed, Stockton to Ladera Heights
Young kids wearing Nikes, sharing bikes
Tearing mics up, kept a nice cut and the fades
Never affiliated but my niggas bang, getting paid
Shouts to my grandma, still in the Js
Coco Ave., .4-4 mag
Tucked away when the po-pos pass
Walked to the stove but don't step on the old folk grass
A 80s baby like Thrifty's and Pick 'N Save
Wear the wrong colors, might as well dig your grave
Ditch your school to throw hands, stick and move
Bagging chicks at Fox Hills like shit was cool
Different dudes, go by a set of different rules
We obviously ain't got shit to lose, boys in the hood
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