For Da Brothaz

I knew a youngster met him at 14 a very short scene Fiendin' to make his dreams come true but see money was caught mean Started runnin' wild and livin' life type of foul that was my shorty's style But deep down in heart he was still only a child He was typin' nice at ball if he had height y'all Might of been 'NBA Today' instead I watched his life fall Blowin' up the spots and poppin' them tec glocks Collectin' street props, splittin' tops, didn't stop, so many men dropped Started committin' murder after murder Blasted the last nigga that tried to riff so fast he flipped him like a burger Slipped and became the victim of his own murder hunger He got put six feet under by a small shorty that was younger And this type of street violence today happens too often It hit me hard as hell to see my dog up in the coffin People droppin' a rose when the casket is closed Hey yo, that's the name of the game out on the street, that's how it goes They say: "Live by the trigger, die by the trigger" It ain't about whose gun is more bigger, nigga It's bout whose draw is quicker So to my shorty dog puzzled I'm pledgin' Died at the age of 17, Brooklyn East New York legend (Tap the bottom of the bottle for the brothers) Keep it real on the street, money, and look out for one another Thinkin' back when I was chillin' with K-Von, but now he's long gone So I carried on and wrote this song to keep the strong on Me and black-o way back in childhood when we was wild hoods Runnin around the neighborhood and up to no good Started hangin' hard out there on the boulevard in stolen cars Then put behind bars sellin' drugs and pullin' yards Then my crimey got locked up for cookin' the rock up Started bouncin' uptown to stuck up, my nigga straight blew the block up Yeah, the blue and whites was on sight runnin' with flashlights On the double a fast life, that's when he seen his last nights Out on the street runnin' from the heat Then got locked up from (Happy New Year!) All the way down to (New Year's Eve!) The two of those in a wardrobe of clothes Got back on crackin', I let him whip the macks and go lookin' for hoes And then another sad story is headed for me When i found out another soldier died in the territory So in memory of my dog I write a lyric Straight hopin' melodies travel from my mind to your spirit Hear it when I get biz for K-Von, I'm pledgin' Died on 104 Northern Boulevard, Corona, Queens legend (Tap the bottom of the bottle for the brothers) Keep it real on the street, money, and look out for one another 3X (Tap the bottom of the bottle for the brothers) Keep it real on the street