BARZ! - South End

Tweaker rollin' by on a ten-speed
And got a backpack full of shit he just stole
I know his mom, she said he livin' rent free
Up in a basement with a nine-month old
Shit, I seen him like a week ago
At the pawn shop with an iPad and a deck with the face
And I think I'm bout to sneak him, though
Cause I just seen in my motherfuckin' house I might be catchin' a case

You see, this the place that I'm from
You don't know where you at, bitch?
You dripped in chains, don't be dumb
That's just how you get jacked quick
Squatter house you just can't miss
Got ya mouth on the glass dick
Mama just can't figure out why all the walls smell like cat piss

Better pray the pistol jam, it's the land of the shiest
Gamble ya life, towards the end, see
This ain't for the glitz, the glam, Instagram pics
Or anything they could use in court against me
See, I might seem ordinary, cordial, friendly
But unfortunately for you
If you run in my home tryna force an entry
I'ma put you in a motherfuckin' mortuary

State patrollers takin' bribes
All of they statements wrote with blatant lies
Twack fiends tradin' dope just name ya price
And they don't need a favorite quote to break the ice
Now the family mournin, pastor sworn in
Everybody pray and hope you stabilize
Cause you got ya brain exposed, decayed inside
And you ain't gonna make it home today, SURPRISE!

Get to Springhaven Apartments
You can hear the metal ring breakin' through cartlidge
Shot 'em and they let him bleed, stainin' the carpet
He was only 17 chasin' the darkness
Always makin' enemies made him a target
But all of these parents keep takin' the hardships
The percentage these days are the largest
Seems like we ain't ever seen change in the longest

We considered the scum of the earth
Leave us here we get covered in dirt
Stings intended, you stuck with the worst
Police pretending they hustlin' work
Actin' like they free from sin, the sheep get skinned
But they cuffin' ya first
Hooked you up with a microphone
But please remember that come with a skirt

South End ain't that bad, shit, we just got a lot of pockets
And it's just some things you can't ask, shit, now we gettin' off of topic
I know it seems chill, but to be real
You gotta think still, you gotta watch it
It ain't gotta be the Fourth if you wanna see a torch
But what you hearing ain't no bottle rockets, BOW!

I swear to God we got lead in the water
Dead end jobs you ain't gettin' no offers
Half this place full of felons while
You got pedophiles havin' sex with ya daughter
Got friends on dope that can't kick the shit
They probably all do way better at soccer
I stays ready so I don't gotta be
Sarah O'Connor to get to the chopper

I wish this ain't have to be this way
Sometimes I think I might see the day
That the people change all they evil ways
But most the time, I believe it stays
Sometimes I feel like I'm stuck
Just tryna hold up the curb so I roll up the herb
Shit ain't new but now you know it occurs
And we really in our own little world
Welcome to the South End

Written by:
Jerad Barlow

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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