Slaine - The Years lyrics

Let's take em back to makings of a king
We go back in time check it out, yea

Yow dreams come through but not for sleepers
When I was nine I got a
Boombox and knocked the speakers
Beasties rockin
Finger poppin girlies by the bleachers
Feening for the Jordan ones but
Couldn’t cop the sneakers
I had the lines of ratsio
Prior to the ball fade of Caesar
In little league I prayed to jesus
I would be a major leaguer
But spring fever got replaced by
The taste of beaver
Before long a bag of chicken
Heads and blazing reefer
I ran the streets and learn to
Find my way through shisty rackets
Rocky Cortez classics and black nikey jackets


But for my dudes that
Are locked up psychiatrics
I wrote these rhymes for and shadow
That I might be at this
My theatrics beginnin
I started pennin what I been in
Drinkin gin and chewin gum
Stakin and a cinnamon
Smokin blunts washing dishes minimum wage
Wrote some day I’m gonna make it
With this pen and a page sayin

The years, the- the- the years
The years, the- the- the years
I twist a bottle cap
Provide a little Hennessey
In the stairs for my peers in their memory
The years, the- the- the years
The years, the- the- the years
For years I had felt I
Was roamin in a cemetery
My own words now I’m holdin on to memory

I moved to New York at the age of eighteen
Left where I grew up
Right before the kids aroun the
Wayside had the shoot up
Poppin these pills back and forth
With the dust took the bus
Back to mass drive my class stack my loot up
Movin with them DMS kids
And now I’m crewed up
Me and Damn One drinking beers
Gettin screwed up
Layin down rhymes on the sample
See with flip doin dips
Turntables and a mike no computer
No booth from the roof tops
I walked in my tube socks smokin oh ops
My boom box breaks from do whop tapes
And 2Pac’s great
Shortly after Biggy was killed
It was apparent to me then
I’d need malevolent will
If I wanna make it either that
Or head for the hills
My connect not that cut off
The bread for the pills
But my head was gettin bigger
And I’m head over heals
That’s when everybody figured I’d be
Dead or in jail

The years, the- the- the years
The years, the- the- the years
I twist a bottle cap
Provide a little Hennessey
In the stairs for my peers in their memory
The years, the- the- the years
The years, the- the- the years
For years I had felt I
Was roamin in a cemetery
My own words now I’m holdin on to memory

So I came back home
I’m half dead but still determined
Addiction was clickin but years in
My head they were turnin
And I ain't have a nickle but a flicker
Of the fire that was burnin through
Turn into a ball of flames
In the winter the furnace blew
Friends is on the fringes bingin on syringes
Relentless ever since
With my mental in the trenches
Gangsta puttin dollars in my projects
Got a pension for some violence
And this end with no logic
So this is how it has to be
Trapped in a catastrophe
Robbed a studio with cats
And now the cats is after me
Really for no reason
But they gassed up on a half of key
That ain't no embellishment
I’m tellin you it’s actually
Before this dude had a chance
To put cap in me he got popped for a robbery
And taken off in shackles, B
I started volume one
It’s crazy how the past repeat
Cause that’s the same robbery the
Town will reenact with me it’s crazy