Peoples and Thangs

Peoples and Thangs

My Uncle Woochie and the Low End game

Bet your bottom dollars we don't blow it, mayne!

They be thinking it is when it ain't

This leave them stuck like wet paint

No love for fake saints sin's in place

Make great haste

in the chase means you can't take the pace

Wait, a zillion

intrigues fatigued and in fatigues

In league with Den of Thieves, I seen Sneak thieves and boosters

Cannon Lords and Till Tappers

Y'all jaw-jacking slackens in presence of real Presence

No malice

Now, people tripping for reasons

I won't have you believing this or even that

Just met with Cannon Jug

He's Abdul Haleem, plugged strict on the path

No half stepping jeffing jazz

Remember Rat Face and Rome? Crazy Ron and Malcolm?

Cee B and coming up down in The Extension?

Remember Ellis Park benches and Madden Park swims?

Bucks and Kangols and running up out of Alco's

Flagging down a cab or jumping on the short

From Lake Meadows mellows and Lawless Garden fellows

Be Born and bred by these citizens and still here today?

Mr. Beard would be tripping if he peeped us today

So play with them people or your got damn self

It's a hell to raise Heaven make a plot for your self.

But I'm a Ida B. Wells LowEnd alumni

Make way for the Bad Guy the good guy just died...