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Hip-Hop Head. Rap Pro. Urban Musician from Uptown/Motown-District Detroit.
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #1
Peak in subgenre #1
Author
Fudge [J. Chandler] (ASCAP)
Rights
Copyright 2023 Urban Cloud, Inc. Houston, TX. All
Uploaded
March 06, 2023
Track Files
MP3
MP3 10.3 MB • 320 kbps • 4:31
Lossless
WAV 198.6 MB
Story behind the song
Even with the incredible amount of opportunities
the modern world provides our generation, success
can still be difficult to obtain. One has to develop
a great amount of focus, resolve, and determination
to survive until you achieve it; which can certainly
cause some unpleasant feelings and behavior to manifest.
That said, anticipate a "hook" ("trap", "hurdle",
"roadblock", etc.) or two, on your road to victory.
Lyrics
INTRO
There’s a new breed of gangster (that) has evolved
the children of the digital revolution
and they’re taking over
the desensitized new breed of gangster has evolved
no mercy, no conscious
just one mission
to survive
VERSE 1
What if you had like 12 stacks, in a HellCat
and we took it, flee the ‘boys, and left it up by Cedar Point
I bet you’d be pissed from here to Mars
but you’d better walk it off, ‘cause you ain’t built for war
touch any of ours, my fam gone be Coming to America
deeper than Eddie Murphy and Arsenio Hall’s
villas will burn, though Fudge is very friendly with God
no principles, laws, will suspend the missiles we’ll lob
and then outrun a zebra, ‘cause we learned how to flee when
police pursue us to lock us up in the county precincts
we seeking pounds to sink our teeth in, like cheese pizzas
leases, Visas, seasonal suites at Caesars, green
on the 4-Block, Uptown, Motown, to your block
Shit Don’t Stop, this Strictly 4 My Niggaz, before ‘Pac
my soapbox, so fresh and so clean, clean detergent
they served to deter us, determined to discourage us
discerned they didn’t deserve the diamonds worth us
and work for, like them derby horses running in Kentucky
sure the Colonel, feed us, keep us, hustling up, the 10 bucks
for the 3 piece and 2 sides, feed my peace inside
keep my dream alive, see if we survive.
the corners that disown us, when the stoners, hookers, pushers
broke and lonely, put us on ‘em, to be on “it”; 3 feet growner, 10 years older
than we know it, but we own it, ‘til we Under, is this Over
CHORUS
What the hook gone be
I don’t need no fucking hook on this beat
It’s ’23
it’s ‘23, it’s ‘23
VERSE 2
Even though I got muscle, it ain’t my hustle
taking niggaz shit in a tussle
DPD’ll be waiting with the “ghetto bird”
the block like kettle corn, heat it up, and you’ll get served
trying to feed my whole crew, friends, relatives
federal investigators talked about embezzlement
Barkleys, and Jordans, watches, and Porsches
credit cards, shit had come up missing up at Northland
cousins up at corporate, moved paperwork quick
word spread, way quicker, than them search warrants can
niggaz wasn't trying to see the inside of their holding can,
especially 'round the holidays, when judges have some time to spare
we Dollar Generals, wallet operatives,
so, that our endz never wound up tied up, like a moccasin
and I can treat, all my darlings to Olive Garden,
Star Cinema, then cards- or boxing-parties, Uptown...
CHORUS
What the hook gone be
I don’t need no fucking hook on this beat
It’s ’23, It’s ‘23
it’s ‘23
What the hook gone be
I don’t need no fucking hook on this beat
It’s ’23, It’s ‘23
it’s ‘23
OUTRO
(When the moon's out
I just can't help myself
I can't seem to leave this jungle
it's been years since I've seen the sun)
Copyright (C) 2023 Urban Cloud, Inc. (ASCAP). Houston, TX. All rights reserved.
