Channel Zero - Lost Boyz

Ayo, yea niggas

I’m talkin to all y’all hard rock niggas

Let y’all niggas know that I understand

What niggas is really goin through ya understand?

Motherfuckin down to they last cent

Smoke the looseys

Thinkin up shit to do, doin stick ups and shit

Bustin at niggas, murderin niggas

Gettin bullshit ass money

What if that was your breed was you murderin clown?

It’s wack

Shout out to grandpa, you know what i’m sayin

Shout out to grandpa kelly

My man ralou’s brother little Deven

Ya know I’m sayin, Freaky Taliq’s moms, rest in peace

Know I’m sayin

Everybody wanna live the ill life, know i’m sayin

But yo we tryin ta live it like love, peace and nappiness

You know I’m sayin, word up

I’m growing up in the ghetto

And there was nobody happy

And my head is mad nappy and

I’m thinkin up a way that I can get some dough

Man I’m tryin ta blow

But yet this record shit is so slow

I got the whole family on my back

All I do is eat and sleep

Run the street with that steel pack

You know the lost boyz got

With timbs and jeans

Field jackets, and hats coverin the eyes

But listen, that’s how it is If you don’t dig how I live

Motherfucka (???)

Cuz everyday on the street

The black man is gettin beat

Police line us up on the concrete

Now people look at me And always see wrong

A new problem everyday

I’m tryin ta be strong

Now how strong can a nigga be When the blacks is locked down

And the white man’s got the key

It’s gettin harder day after day

Somebody got ta pay

And in my closet lays an AK

The new (???) is found dead

Plus when he killed the girl

He put the gun to his own head

Ya never hear it on the 6:00 news

When my niggas get killed in the street over tennis shoes

It’s hard enough for us blacks to earn cash man

The homeless keep warm by settin fire to a trash can

Now everyday I need ends

New (???) my nigga weed

St. Ides is my best friend

Pa’s is broke

No calls comin in on my phone

And money I’m down to my last stone

My mom dukes is always bangin on my door

My music’s too loud

I got clothes on the floor (pick em up)

She doesn’t understand

I’m cruisin in the fast lane

I’m fresh outta nerves

Ma, you’re workin on my last vein

Now how can I explain

That I don’t wanna take her out

But that’s stuck in my brain

We’re havin fight after fight

Because I leave when it’s bright

And comes home the next night

But that’s the life that I live understands me It’s bad enough that Po-Nine tried ta can me Ayo my lifestyle is rough

I got three sisters, four brothers

Man, ain’t this enough?

But yet I gots no hero

But I got the 411 on the ghetto

Tune into channel zero

Tune into channel zero

Tune into channel zero

Everybody in the world

Everybody uptown

Everybody in Queens

Tune into channel zero

Everybody in Brooklyn

Everybody in the Bronx

Everybody in the world

Tune into channel zero

I live in Queens, New York (what you do?)

I twist a cap with my niggas

Smoke a blunt let’s start to talk

About this ill situation

That us blacks is in It’s time we build a better nation

Motherfuck them police

Some whites talk about peace

But they ain’t ready for the planet

Marky Mark be talkin that slang

But he don’t even understand it Yea I said Marky Mark

Frontin like the buddarist punk

I never saw you in the park

You give it all to your bullshit skills G A white boy actin black, that shit kills me Pants hangin, talkin slang kid and all that

I never seen you in the projects or black

Ya never wons no grammy

Ya whites gave Elvis a stamp

But what ya plan ta give my man Sammy?