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Lyrics
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...
Details
GeneratedNov 3, 2025
Duration1:58
LanguageEnglish
Style
blues, chicago blues, delta blues, trip hop, nu jazz, abstract, hip hop
Credits
Prompt byMy_Uncle_Woochie
ModelAria v5
