Stack Bundles, Joe Budden - Where I'm From lyrics

They say we not New York
But dudes get stabbed
Get shot like New York, niggas get robbed
Get got like New York
But they don't make the news
'Cause it's not New York
Hope you heard me, boy
Look, I'm from Jersey, boy
Where it's still half off that Hershey boy
I was driving
Shotgun was Ike when that faggot on the bike
Rode by and tried to murk me boy
But chill, here's the head crack, I'm an OG
I don't wet that
If you know me then you know it's get back
You nah mean?
The nah mean is tools gon' flare
In a society if you nobody
Then actually who's gonna care?
They won't call your next of kin
I'll make your family aware
And the whole hood is dipped
Up so having sanity's rare
I'm from where embalming fluid ain't stop
Yet and city hall's primary project
Is knocking down the projects
They ain't finished that yet
See, I'm from carjack central
Niggas'll go in your ride
While you pick up the Jersey Journal, "Damn
So and so died"
I'm from where the dope game is bad
So every hustler can't hustle
Tryna hustle them a rapper slash
Muscle them a rapper
They can find them a young nigga
With a few bars to say
'Cause nigga, rap's the new coke, wet, weed
And yay i'm from where Champ had it locked
'til dude had him shot
For everybody to see and
Everybody was relieved
I'm from where the blocks is dark
So walk the turf with ya gun cocked
And the hospitals'll fuck you up
Worse than a gunshot
From where screws is loose
Gunpoint dudes strip nude
And that ain't even half of New Jeruve, nigga

Uh oh, uh oh! Stack Bundles!
Riot Squad! DJ Envy!

Listen from the last stop on the A train
Where the youngin let his thang bang
We shoulda left the two cops
But they steady left the lane
Where the skies is gray
'cause no stars around
Father MC was the last star around
Home of the niggas'll jack Latifah
Left her in the street
40 niggas caught boom for the 41st side piece
Where Edgeman, Raw P, and Redford rawed cap
So get your shit yacked
There's no gettin' it back (Nah)
I'm from where bitch niggas go
To jail and turn thug, and
(What else?)
Crip niggas go to jail and turn Blood, and
(What else?)
Niggas come home, flip a lil' weed
End up with barbershops and
Music stores with CD's
From where niggas on 17th was gettin'
It and went on T (What happened?)
And they own workers left them uncomfortably
From where they argue 'bout
Whose fuckin' whose broad
And who's drivin' what cars
And niggas hatin' like he got
That from insurance jobs
Where old heads was gettin' it
But kept gettin' robbed
So they wanted out the game
And converted to God
Where niggas play the corners 'til
They pecks is done
And out-of-towners come to blam blam
The cannons and run
From the other side where Queen's
Niggas don't come through much (Nah)
The record exec's wouldn't sign us
Said we'd done too much
So they ran over to Brooklyn and
Thought them dudes was to trust
I don't know what the fuck they thought
Them niggas look foul just like us
From where the streets get the best of you
(Bruh) , the beef's inevitable (Bruh)
When you come through half price, animal new
From where the soldiers fall and
Thugs we are all i'm from Far Rock, son
Just thought I'd remind y'all
The sixth borough, shit's thorough
Far Rock, son, ain't nothin' nice
(nothin', nothin')
The sixth borough, shit's thorough
Far Rock, son, ain't nothin' nice
(nothin', nothin', nothin')