Memory Lane

[O.C.] Reminisce about my childhood, doin things kids did Roughhouse, playin in abandoned lots, throwin rocks Trashcan tops wearin caps in America That part of time be, tracked in my mind, it never blurs I sometimes visit my youth Close my eyes and think to alive, sittin on the stoop Of my crib it's weird, we had the "Our Gang" shit jumpin off Bring it up to date, a couple are gone Anyway, we was tight knit, mixed with, Spanish and black kids Inner-city youth, colorblind Even though we'd fight and clash, we'd get past the nonsense With no grown folk intervenin, we conscious Do it on our own with caution Punches are thrown, but a hour later we talkin If things get out of proportion, we adjust the fuss And turn it to fun, no more sqwakin Who thought about things like guns and coffins A child's mind nowadays wanna be flossin I didn't grow up fast but I knew a hardhead Left the store fast, 70's child, respect that 'Til this, day and time, them moments I hold precious Deep in a child's place taught a nigga life lessons Up until the moment I chose this profession Work hard but there's no such thing as perfection I often sit and say to myself this be a blessing Forseein my callin in my adolescence, destined To get the cars, the fly clothes, I stand froze Thinkin back, swingin in the snow, makin angels [O.C.] Yeah, yo, harsh reality smacked me in the face as a pre-teen Some of my mans got caught up in the street dream Hustlin it wasn't my thing, yet I knew Some who did it and did it well, you know this tale But there's a slight twist to this ghetto tale I tell I had a cousin named Orell he was funny as hell His momma name was Pearl, so I called her All Pearl Auntie had a job offer in Cali in the San Diego jail So she packed up her shit and split, from my uncle They was married a decade and five cent, now fate Me and my cousin's tight, the youngest out my nanny grandbabies Let me show ya why life is crazy When we used to sham people, it never dawns on ya That ya might not see 'em no more, I could remember He was 5, I was 8, playin in front of my gate Momma tellin us to come in cause it's time to ate Say grace over food my providers was great Sayin peace to mom and pop still alive today I recall one of my cousins goin out to California Comin back tellin us niggas dyin over colors He told me 'bout, khaki wearin, jheri curl brothers Doin drivebys in cars with machine guns bustin I found it farfetched, thinkin his story is stretched Findin out later on about the West coast sets Let me fast-forward the story and tell ya how it ends They moved to start a new life for his life to end Come to find out later on he was Blood inducted From the same set he claimed was the Blood who bucked him