My Diary

Album: Harlem: Diary of a Summer (2005)
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  • Pardon the Syzzrup

    Now we try corners
    Old folks try and warn us
    The cops try and swarm us
    Blocks hot like saunas
    Well fuck it I'm a risk it
    Got a bunt nigga twist it
    I'm a get drunk with my biscuit
    5 cent cup, take a sip kid
    I'm a product of the p-jects
    My teachers always told me that I'd prolly be a reject
    I came up by my lonely now I'm a product of that D-Set
    Two twelvin' with my homie, he caught a homy of that d-wreck
    He said it had him zonin' left the body in building three steps
    The project now on fire every where you see the detects
    His high is coming down cause now he's nervous smokin bogeys
    And now he findin' out that fuckin' murder was his co-D
    And this the shit that happens all too often up in Harlem
    No shit you smell a rat you better off him what's the problem
    In this business sellin' crack we cook that raw shit up to hard shit
    And tell my fellas that and to my coffin steady mobbin' to my coffin
    Steady mobbin'

    [Chorus]
    Take a look into my eyes and you'll see all the pain the ghetto brings
    Take a journey through my soul and lets
    Roll through the streets of reality
    They tell me slow down I'm livin' life fast See they don't all wanna
    Ride with me
    I know it ain't right but this is my life
    It's just a piece of my diary yeah


    Now, we ran reckless, no grown-ups to guide us
    So it's the man what you expect, I've grown-up to violence
    I had my eye up on the pushers, the ones that stay fly
    Fiends got high off the suga, you know that ain't right
    That sweet cane, some got buried to the street game
    My niggas only worried bout the jewelry and the street fame
    And what the bitches thought of them, it's all about the money
    Well shit I cop some Porsche or trucks
    'Member I was hungry, I was whippin' in the Corsica
    Hoopty motherfucka', hoppin the double four's
    My pants droopy motherfuckas
    And pardon my grammar, my nana died '95
    So I done left my heart wit my grandma
    I hid outside and played the park wit the hammer
    And I'm watchin' for the narcs, they movin' cars with antennas
    Thug and respect, for all my goons behind bars in the slammas
    To my G's on rikers, to all my three time lifers

    [Chorus]

    [Repeat: x2]
    This is my life we die young cause we livin fast
    So I'm a let you read my diary I'ma let you read my dairy

    Now lets ride (to where), to Harlem, the Westside
    I show you blocks and murals, dawg where some of the best died
    (Like who, like who?) Like Porter and them
    I heard Po put the order on him, now that's more than a friend!
    But he stitched of course, now let's talk about Fritz the boss
    And he got rich off snort, they said 500 bricks was brought
    So in hindsight, it's a shorty who couldn't get a gist of his thought
    But if you grind right wit the snorpy, a whip could be bought
    Now think about po-9, if it caught me, how it get you in court
    But now the feds, they still tailin' me, DA think he nailin' me
    I had to turn in the goons come and post the bail for me
    Still in the Byrd Gang myself, you say Byrd Gang is wealth
    And all the liquor stores, man the Syzzurp on the shelf
    I rose from the dump you see, now it's Dipset, Byrd Gang the company

    [Chorus]

    [Repeat: x2]
    This is my life we die young cause we livin' fast
    So I'm a let you read my diary I'm a let you read my dairy Writer/s: ANTWAN THOMPSON, DENISE WEEKS, JIM JONES
    Publisher: Audiam, Inc., BMG Rights Management
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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