Sick Jacken, B-Real - The Sickside lyrics

Let me tell you about my hood
Let me tell you about my block
So many hoodlums,  so many cops
Two ways out, get paid or in a box
One way to win
Do what you can and shake the spot
Slugs, pills
A lot of drug deals and thugs killed
It’s all for money and the
Power cause the buck’s real
And if you’re scared homie you
Can cop a church still pray to God
See if he even gives a fuck still
There’s no religion
Just these concrete saints
That only kneel when the sharpness shanks
In the street and in the holding tanks
In the west by the stormy banks
Where in war does your army rank
Soldier, I seen this shit young
That’s why my poison tongue
Only spit's about my boys with guns
Fire got you shook
You only hear the noise and run
And that fear makes extortion fun
You ain’t the one

If all hoods are the same
Let me tell you about mine
All these young kids doing street level crime
Some on the run and some doing time
We gotta turn these kids to a sickside mind

Cali is sick, New York is sick
Chi-town sick, the whole block sick
When you’re out on the street
Doing dirt with your clique
Just remember the legit gets the
Law of the dick

Now I don’t want to be stuck
With this bad luck shit
All you mushed out bitches I can’t fuck with
This whole subject is painful, I love it
We share the stories not meant for the public
We struggle to get here, next year new story
Taking over, wait’s over
Best feel the change over
What it took to prosper
No apologies to offer
Got the best you can put on a roster
Psycho sick, assassins sick
Every now and then we need a revolution
So we spray the hallways
You’re in a haze when the song plays
And you don’t want to come
At us the wrong way it’s only for some
This crazy ass city we run
It’s in our blood, we live and die by the gun
Wipe your tears or the blood right
In front of your eyes
This city is cold and she
Don’t cry when you die

If all hoods are the same
Let me tell you about mine
All these young kids doing street level crime
Some on the run and some doing time
We gotta turn these kids to a sickside mind

LA is sick, New Jersey is sick
B Town sick, the whole block sick
When you’re out on the street
Doing dirt with your clique
Just remember the legit gets the
Law of the dick

I’m from a crooked angle
Ay homie make my dust angel
This city block got me locked
In a tight strangle
Graffiti bomb, city wall by the knife angle
At least too raw
Melee wars and the stars spangled
That’s what the board is for
Exercise the art of war
In the hood but not in yours
That’s when the shotties roar
Watch where you’re at man
The streets in a constant spar
Don’t try to be a hero
That’s what the cops are for
The lifestyle we lead is money, whiskey
And weed
And gun battles make it risky indeed
No money, more problems got my city in need
It’s CA all day where we hustle and bleed
Scrape the Cali concrete for dope
Stay hungry in the street cause this
Music shit’s about to blow
Trying to stay out of the county
So I dodge the law
And these enemies that plot my fall
Fuck em all

If all hoods are the same
Let me tell you about mine
All these young kids doing street level crime
Some on the run and some doing time
We gotta turn these kids to a sickside mind

Atlanta is sick, Philly stay sick
Texas sick, the whole block sick
When you’re out on the street
Doing dirt with your clique
Just remember the legit gets the
Law of the dick