South Side Story - Lloyd Banks

I done learned from mistakes like who’s my man, and who’s not

Like who’s gone run, and who’s not

Like who’s gone shoot if you shot

Who gone hold they own, who’s not

Who gone change spots

In the streets of New York, you can’t trust nobody

Niggas’ll run up on you with a 12-guage shotty

Loyalty comes free, and smokin' weed is my hobby

You wanna rob me, you gotta leave here with a body

When I was ten years old, I seen a nigga take three in the head

Probably around the same time he used to pee in the bed

I stayed awake, cause my nightmares was seein' 'em dead

Smelled the burnt tires peelin' after leavin' him lead

The killer fled with a fuckin' laugh

My heart pumpin' on blast

I just stared at him, slumped in the grass

Arms movin', fingers shakin', spittin' up blood

DNA mixed in the mud, another ditch to be dug

There I stood, stiffer than wood

See homey used to buy me candy

Now he’s gone, who gone provide his family?

My ear ringing, shoulda been runnin'

I never thought I’d be that sick

Damn, I wasn’t 'posed to see that shit

That’s when I thought

It was more than three shots

He coulda been aimin' for me, maybe he circled around the block

I turned around at my pops, he like «what happened?»

This nigga rolled up and just started clappin'

I can still hear him laughin'

It was a regular day in South Side, sprinklers and kids runnin'

All of a sudden, heads turnin', somebody did somethin'

This nigga name I forgot, fuck it, he lived around the block

Regular gettin' money nigga, but loved to clown a lot

Walked across the park, stuntin', frontin'

Diamonds in his ear, diamond watch on

Eatin' a bag of popcorn

Walked up behind a shorty, grabbin' her waist

She pushed him away, so he threw the bag in her face

She felt disrespected, shorty couldn’t accept it

Called him a pussy, told him she’d be back in a second

But he ain’t pay her no mind

Called her a bitch about four times

Stayed in the park, wit' no niggas wit' em and no nine

And them in no time, older nigga from behind

Swung a baseball bat, left his face all crack

Told him «Take all that!»

Hit him again, popped his chain wit' a frown

And left the clown, with a stain on the ground

Now all my days go by blowin' that sticky, icky

California made me picky

Chicken head tried to stick me wit' a hickey

If we, blow up quickly, stickly, somewhere tipsy

The location don’t matter, I’m South Side until they hit me

I’ll be DEAD

If looks can kill, I’m from the ghetto boys

But I don’t know Scarface or Bushwick Bill

My heart spills

For the kids that ain’t got nothin' ain’t got it still

And for my, cousin I lost

Humped over the steerin' wheel