Church Street

Intro: Chuurrrrrch, woorrrrrrd) Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh Uh, uh, uh, uh Keep it real witcha, uh Church Street ya'll, and it don't stop To the beat ya'all, and it don't stop Church street y'all uh, uh, uh, uh Church street y'all, and it don't stop To the beat y'all, and it don't stop We tryina eat yall, and we won't stop Uh, yeah! 015, GY, Ironville, Saleville Church Street Word Verse 1: [Trav] I'll keep it real witcha I'm from the place where only thugs get richer Dog eats dog, that's the only way it gets bigger Broken homes and rusty frames, and we still picture Getting outta this rigour plight as soon as our pockets vigour I used to roll with the neighbourhood bullies Flex like Boogie, make adults crumble like cookies You know, we'd rock the same apparel and our minds were parallel I'm still crew with a few, but I don't know where the others went They pro'bly somewhere doing time or getting dough When you from this walk of life, those the only paths you know Each day had to overhaul my calibre for survival Even had to learn to draw my guns quicker than my shadow And just kill shit And I just think that was given Cos my talent is definite and my skill is infinite And lyrically I've been gifted before the continents shifted And even when I'm in my grave I'm pretty sure I'll still kick it Hook: (Churrrrch. Woorrrd.) Church street, ya'll! And it don't stop! To the beat, y'all! And it don't stop! Verse 2 [Trav] I'm extraordinary, the guns in my jeans are not only necessary All my uncles been through it, trust me man its hereditary Seen one get gunned in the liquor store, shit just made me Realise like a legacy, these guns I gotta carry on If I'm Serious about my plan to thrive Blow up in this land and get what's rightfully mine Dreams of owning all the money like a Rothschild Now I'm a man, gotta make my pockets expand like time So I stay on my watch And if you run into my crew you better pray to God We'll make you question his existence and rob you for all you got We know what we doing is wrong but we don't care about your rights Cos the government don't seem to care about us either And God must have grew tired of us like the preachers We crucify their logic for tyina tell us 'bout Jesus Cos in Praxis, his scriptures don't put no food in our stomachs. What! Hook: Outro: (Poem from Zeitgeist documentary)