The Corner

[Intro: Saigon] Mark Ron… Saigon… Paint the windows black—it's over now [Verse 1: Saigon] Finally home from up north, shit. Already, talk leaking through the faucet ‘Cause I ain’t slinging horse shit, they think that I’m on some soft shit Whatever, God. I’mma work hard to find me a job That don’t work? Let them be the first jerks that I rob But no, I’m tryna change it around Tired of being chained to the ground From Africa, we came with the crown When you locked down, your mind frame remainin’ in town You hardly ever had nightmares of gettin’ slain and then now That’s as they release me I done turn on my man who wanna piece me with the key, see, to flip it whenev it easy But now I’m job huntin’, feelin’ the more aggravation Knowin’ when they seen "convicted," they tore the application Probably placed it in the wastebin While I’m at the crib, pacin’, waitin’ impatient for a call they ain’t makin’ And if I baked a cake, then my momma be stressin’ honesty Hearin’ now like, “Honey, what happens is what you promise me.” “Mommy, honestly, look: I got strikes first. With a nigga, second They think I was living hectic ‘cause I got a prison record You think they believe I did dirt, but was disinfected? No, they just neglect to tell me if I come in there, I was misdirected.” [Chorus] From the street corner to the jail cell block Lost souls, crack fiends, and crooked cops Crime sprees, cheap wine, trees, and drug spots They say it’s all good when it’s really all not Someone is crying—I feel your pain Swallow your tears and call out my name Lifetime of sorrow gets burned in the flame The sun comes tomorrow to chase away the rain [Verse 2: Saigon] Yo, how couldn't I serve fiends? There was fifty-six in my building I even hit the souper with somethin’ for fixing our ceiling I was the only kid at thirteen out at four in the mornin’ Niggas was in they mirrors. I was on the corner yawnin’ Running with kids that was wanted—murder ones and beyond. The Police reacting off any info the informants respond with (Where was I?) Captivated by garments, Rugers with the chrome compartments Teenagers with keys to they own apartment Young king—my corner park bench Told this nigga Drab, 50 slabs, just got out his sixth rehab Fuck did I care? The hell of a hole in his cerebellum come Dummy wanna smoke jumbs? Dammit, I’m sellin’ him some That was my attitude after that street life molested me Listen so you can see how shit indirectly affected me Same nigga Drab who I told you I sold them slabs to Needed more to maintain and was down to do what he had to Walked up on this old lady, put his hand in his pocket And told her, “Give me the purse!” She screamed, hoping the coppers’ll roll up He grabbed the purse, which was strapped to her opposite shoulder She hit her head and leg when she fell, but her noggin was swoller Before anyone could stop to console her, Drab was showing me what he got in his hold-up Noticed my mother’s wallet—hold up! My brain blanked, swore before God Looked to see one of my old report cards splattered, drabbled over the court yard No, my ma never recovered from my backless war Fractured skull—said she might walk again, but they ain’t sure Drab’s mom still wanted relentlessly When they sentenced me, she requested that I get no less than infinity All of this is fiction, but just as well could’ve been real What they call killing four patients with one pill and it’s ill But it’s real… And it’s ill, but it’s real, but it’s ill, but it’s real… [Chorus] (x2) From the street corner to the jail cell block Lost souls, crack fiends, and crooked cops Crime sprees, cheap wine, trees, and drug spots They say it’s all good when it’s really all not Someone is crying—I feel your pain Swallow your tears and call out my name Lifetime of sorrow gets burned in the flame The sun comes tomorrow to chase away the rain