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letra de the real - ecmd feeky

[verse 1: ecmd feeky]
ecmd feek, camden
that tattoo on your left arm say r.i.p to bebe
lost my cousin to the hood, f-ck that sh-t you see on tv
my bestfriend od’d on h, he told me drop a cd
young boa’s carrying with rubber grips on the de
and the girls carry vd, no older than sixteen
they all tricking old men, no younger than sixty
see my hood is a cesspool, i’m one of the filthy
go back where i came from, i’d rather you k!ll me
‘cuz ain’t nothing there but broken dreams and even broker pockets
some is raised in poverty, too young to get a job yet
some is raised in other sh-t, way too young to even stop it
my young boa selling crack the same sh-t his mom smoking
his lil’ brother sleep on the couch and the door open
he say he hate his life, he be praying and he hoping
that he make it out before the hood take him out, put holes in him
see, youngin’ was raised around hustlers, youngin’ picked a trade
either go to school broke or drop out the eighth grade
he did it first just so him and his lil’ siblings just could eat
but the money too good, young boa get new sneaks
and you would do the same, if you only felt his pain
erryday he walk pass the wall with rip under his pops name
just like his pops, another product of the game
but youngin’ not a shame, youngin’ just want a name
whoever shot his pops going out with the same fame
young boa hot as flame
he in the kitchen whippin’ and razor cutting that caine
he a hustlers hustler
his mom’s his top customer
and you could try and blame, but you would do the same
if only you felt his pain
yo, check it
they say this new era mindless
they say these young n-ggas got no heart, where they define us
tell the old heads to play they part
i ain’t got no words for those who never had to struggle
i’m speaking on behalf of those who had to hustle
who ain’t know any connects, they started theirs from the muscle
see i know how that feel, most of my life i know how it felt
i keeps it real, look
ecmd feeky, camden
eastside
[verse 2: k styles]
i’m straight from the slums where the money so amazing
fiends in the alleyway crack pipe blazing
money on ya’ mind, why the f-ck are you hating
it’s okay, i make you lose ya’ patience
dressed in all white got you n-ggas looking stupid
you must be 112, tryna’ play cupid
i take yo’ chick because i’m ruthless
make her take this d-ck like a bottle of exclusiv
don’t be mad bro, you should’ve came harder
i’m nino brown, i run ya’ chick like the carter
me, myself and i, and that’s my partner
cash rules everything, never trust a thot
i laugh at these haters, they want what i got
i make sh-t hot, fresh grits in the pot
have you looking dumb like you heard mad shots
young black and gifted, road to the riches
i don’t have time just to play with these b-tches
i keep my distance from these snitches
everywhere i go they want to smile in my face

- ecmd feeky

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