On My Way To Harlem (LP版)-Coolio

On My Way To Harlem (LP版)

歌手:Coolio

时间:1994-07-19

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On My Way To Harlem (LP版) - Coolio

I know a place where the trees don't grow

Just another place where n**gaz live low

I know a place where life is f**ked up

Make a wrong move and your a** get stuck up

Time ain't nothin but a frame of mind

And life is like a mountain or a steep a** climb

I've been lookin for a place to leave

The only free place is inside of me

So let's take a trip and you don't need a grip

But you better be equipped 'cause it might be some sh*t

African American nothin but a n**ga

Had our fingers on the trigger but I pulled mine quicker

I know a place where there ain't no calm and

You better stay away if you're soft like Charmin

South Central Los Angeles

Watts and Compton

A n**ga on the west coast on his way to Harlem

Now it's time to step into the light

Light

Put up your dukes there's gonna be a fight

Fight

And when it's time to fight

You better fight right

'Cause if it don't fight right

Out goes the light

Take a close look at what I'm freakin on

Niggaz think I'm tweekin

But I'm speakin on

Subject matter data

Information that I gather

Through my travels

'Cause the hardest of the hard

Hit hardcore killer

Can't stop the slug of a nine millimeter

Everybody thinks they know

But they know not

If they haven't caught

A cap on the block

So shine up your boots and pick up the pieces

Grab a fresh pair of khakis

With the sharp a** creases

Ring the alarm here comes the storm

I got a firearm on my way to Harlem

I know a place where the sun don't shine

Everybody is a victim of neighborhood crime

I know a place where niggaz walk the line

One false step and they must do time

Since I'm in the same boat

I must stay afloat

And sing every note

From the quotes that they wrote

So I look into the past

And walk the path of the greats

So I won't make the same mistakes

That sealed my ancestors fates

If I had to be a slave

I'd rather be in my grave

If I get in how many lives could I save

One two three

A hundred

A thousand

My heart is poundin the devil keeps soundin

But he don't want my money he wants my soul

So I reach like a tree and like a ** I grow

My stomach is full

But my mind is starvin

Rollin in a G ride on my way to Harlem

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