Hard Knocks – “Young Guns” lyrics

21 04 2009

Da “School Of Hard Knocks” [Wild Pitch, 1992].

A era that doesn’t comprehend the word slow
Away with the make believe and land of GI Joes
Cause that’s bullshit
He turns 16 now his fingers got a trigger itch
And at the party in my building
Plaster drops as the bass shakes the ceiling
The crowds packed in like a sardine can
And my man with the 380 is making a grandstand
He said the kid stepped on his Ballys didn’t say a word
Then looked him up and down like the neighborhood nerd
Then Shorty got pissed
He emptied the clip and not one shell missed
I guess he thought his act was large
But now he got a homicide charge
Pictures are posted on every corner of the Ave
Now every corner shorty turns he leaves behind gas
It’s too late to be scared now
His parents wanna turn ‘em in but he’d rather be gunned down
But he’s caught in the wrong place at the wrong time
A nosy neighbor’s 911 tip to the crime hot line
Cuffed up then snuffed up
And at the station his nostrils are puffed up
A last effort that didn’t even have a ditch
Interrogated and broke down like a bitch
Now he’s upstate keepin’ nigga’s nylons clean
Even got a nick-name sweet 16
You wanna know how the west was won
It all started with the use of Young Guns

Another scene called the thriller (it gets iller)
Another teenage contract killer
But he was young and dumb and full of rum
Stumbled out the party with a automatic handgun
His 1st day on the job
he got hired cause a worker got robbed
5 g’s and a fractured jaw
And he ain’t gettin’ paid half of what the worker got robbed for
But anything for a buck he says he’s down on his luck
So he doesn’t give a fuck
Spots his victim on the corner gettin’ high
A u turn’s in progress for the uptown drive by
In cruise control a tinted window is let down
Twinkling of an eye
All smiles are turned to frowns
A corpse before he even hits the ground
Burnt’em bled to death, bleeding from his birthmark
Gunned down by a mother’s childhood sweetheart
Opportunity knocked so he took a stand
Only 17 and he’s a thousand dollar hit man
I hate to say it but my race is bottomless
If I was rich I’d move to metropolis
Police are on the scene in a matter of time
Putting up yellow tape for a black on black crime
But here’s a case a D.A. would love to persist
Cause the hit kid left behind witnesses

But like I said he was dumb
Another tale from the books of Young Guns

18 year old black male living dangerous
His slogan is breathe and I’ll make you famous
He gets paid with a teenage staff
Because of their rep they even give out autographs
Drug stores I mean drug dealers are his favorite hits
Never claiming non-profit and they work 1 shift
One night they went on a spree
Robbed us then shot the nigga laying next to me
I didn’t panic I hardly took a breath
Knowing if I did no breath would be left
That caused me to start packing
Nigga’s staging scenes with no script but acting
They even hit the bank on Burnside
The teller look too long so they made her commit suicide
But here the madness doesn’t stop
They pulled a jack move on a undercover cop
Dead in the chest 2 at point blank range
A bullet proof vest caused lead to exchange
The leader of the pack’s pronounced dead on arrival
Now the rest of his crew is upstate reading bibles

Need I go on with this story
The rest of the rhymes is self explanatory!





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