[Intro: Common & VIC MENSA]
On the Amen Corner, I stood, starin' at my former hood
A land of Gods, where the mosque towers above the ghost of Leon's Barbeque
A city of contraband and contradictions
The horns of Louis Armstrong wrestle with the devil's
While fireworks compete with gunshots on a hot summer night
Back in the day, we made the pilgrimage from the Deep South to our Mecca, the South Side (Yeah)
[Verse 1: VIC MENSA]
From behind the burglar bars of my mama's backyard
I watched as passin' cars stopped to trap hard
Black Stones in Muslim garb
Leavin' the mosque from Jummah, not far from Ministеr Farrakhan, the students of Master Fard
Drivе-by shootings, rapid fire Uzis, cars bumpin' the Fugees
We smoke loose squares, not loosies
Home of the Barbershop movies
Gunshots left his cap red like a Sufi
Storefront churches next to the chicken shop
Across the street from the liquor spot
That's juxtaposition, ahk, thirty-two shots in my Glock
I don't listen to Fox, my middle finger to cops, uh
Dead opps, but we live on these blocks
Gram rocks for delivery, no electricity
The middle of December but the city be hot
The magic and the misery I seen it all vividly, the South Side
On the Amen Corner, I stood, starin' at my former hood
A land of Gods, where the mosque towers above the ghost of Leon's Barbeque
A city of contraband and contradictions
The horns of Louis Armstrong wrestle with the devil's
While fireworks compete with gunshots on a hot summer night
Back in the day, we made the pilgrimage from the Deep South to our Mecca, the South Side (Yeah)
[Verse 1: VIC MENSA]
From behind the burglar bars of my mama's backyard
I watched as passin' cars stopped to trap hard
Black Stones in Muslim garb
Leavin' the mosque from Jummah, not far from Ministеr Farrakhan, the students of Master Fard
Drivе-by shootings, rapid fire Uzis, cars bumpin' the Fugees
We smoke loose squares, not loosies
Home of the Barbershop movies
Gunshots left his cap red like a Sufi
Storefront churches next to the chicken shop
Across the street from the liquor spot
That's juxtaposition, ahk, thirty-two shots in my Glock
I don't listen to Fox, my middle finger to cops, uh
Dead opps, but we live on these blocks
Gram rocks for delivery, no electricity
The middle of December but the city be hot
The magic and the misery I seen it all vividly, the South Side
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!