we have to keep talking like we always walking, no one can keep up like its flat between the lines when you fade to the chalk lines, after the spray, but it was a set up, when you thought you everyone looked up to you, no one respect a bitch with an attudie, so keep on me where you think i am from when i beat you up, we keep in the lines and mark up, see the blood when the solider of the street marchs threw, it a painted hazed to bring you back, just like that, 10 feet down, where the dogs can't smell, hows that for a fact when i smack your other homies for their upper lips. when it sounds like hte foot step coming down the curb is red all around but we keep steping like its nothing new with a cloud of yesterdays still on stain on our boots as we carrie on, its just a my warrior way.
