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chuck strangers – 34th & beverley lyrics

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[verse 1]
late night, down wind, and they schemin on your pantie
it’s best to blend in, bredrin
and hope your dice rolls seven, if not, phone kevin
he a friend of mine, he not really p-ssy
but not really a tough guy, when he shot his nine
yo, he listen to doves cry, back in the days
he would give me a whole eighth and walk me to the train safe
told me, grown men walk, only coward n-ggas strafe
when i was a lil n-gga, he’d show me his toast
i’d follow him out to gucci when he was coppin his loafs
and now i boost the beat till the floor shake
and i’m a spit the pain till the world ache
no debate, speak on my n-gga life
cause my mans was great at the corner store on thirty eighth
like can we get together, all riders?
for a day filled with promise, polos, and pradas
midnight marauders, peace to your momma
she knew me as chey, lil fat n-gga always
stealing racks from the crates, wanting to bust moves
trying hard to be arrogant, parish fews
the high top ones, i had the white with the blue
and ain’t n0body feel me but you, so bump this sh-t
while you sip on your brew, reminiscing on the real
n-gga sh-t we went through, my dude, my dog
used to see you politicin up at the rim spot
q-tip, dre, kanye, demonte? and you had put me
in your fifth spot, now your n-gga’s sh-t tight
like a wrist watch, word

[verse 2]
ayo word, how they face could ever fester my feelings
man this soul too appealin, my music revealin
the insides of a n-gga, i heard your cd your rhymes is iller
man, you can’t stand them brooklyn guys
i be all move with the lava, then you look in the eyes
hood scholar, i ain’t never been to college, learned it all on my block
bread force, but it sway, word to knowledge of pac
word

[verse 3]
so east flatbush it’s disgustin, flows he bustin
in the same polo sport, my mans beside me
he worried about them lil n-ggas in the building lobby
i ain’t tough, but kept a blade since them n-ggas robbed me
yeah the world too cold
n-ggas shinin sh-t and callin it gold, soon as your album drop, they callin it old
i k!ll flows and jeans with no holes in ’em
and all these beats got soul in ’em
i’m so winnin, but you prayin i lose
when i’m back in brooklyn, i get the choos, she like buy me black guy shoes
them socks with birkenstocks lowkey had you amused
but you still get undressed cause i need a muse
now we lit as a fuse, it’s no rules to the posse
if you from where i’m from, so i gave that b-tch power
word, my d-ck is a gun, your new disc went dumb
but trey up in this b-tch, you went f-ckin with sum



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