Mistaken Identity
(专辑: The Height Of Power - 2009)
Yo turn this up in your whip Cause Slaine and Statik Selektah on this shit Push the
seat back... and turn the
system up True story; pay attention to the
details "Think about the
robbery... last week" "Hey Young World, wanna hear a
story?" "This is a
tale, of lost innocence" "Stick up kids that's out for tax!" I
live in these streets daily so when I
write 'em you can picture these Stories supposedly were seperated by some six degrees Whether youse as thick as thieves, junkies eatin Mickey D's Cookin dope in a
spoon, rollin up their frickin sleeves Like Bobby with the
burnt out eyes, bruised up veins Lackluster charm, rotted arms, and used up game Dopesick and stinkin old ladies at ATM's With wrinkled skin for eyelids, threw punches and caved them in They had bad habits, badder teens turned stickup kids Turned needle-shooters, turned erratic fiends And now it seems Bobby's doin B&Es, breakin and enterin Takin what's temptin and hoppin fences 'til his ankles are bent again Race for the
hotbox, stolen 'caine and X-Box A
couple games, a
couple lames in the
front seat swervin lanes Flippin middle fingers at suburban dames Driving by whose pussies got wet filled with nervous shames Back to Southie, hopped out the
car Then ran their mouths like the
fuckin dope fiends they are "I need loot, so I'm doin what I
do" "Junkies in the
alley with the
baseball bat" "He's coming up short cause he snorts coke, dope, nope" "I hope he don't get caught" Word on the
street it spread to this kid named Ed Whose crib got robbed for X-Box, cocaine, and his bread The
block is always watchin, it's just the
same as the
feds But the
streets is always fast to put a
name with a
head It's easier to kill a
junkie when he lays in his bed But it's hard to find a
snake when the
skin he stays in his shed And he leaves his corner, stays inside the
Days Inn instead Gets locked up in the
Bay addin the
days in his head Ed rolled over to Southie with a
knife like a
faggot Lookin for Bobby who committed the
robbery he's tryin to stab it He got a
habit for murder he wanna kill him slow He stole some shit out his wife's room he's gonna kill him yo A
grey Infiniti rolls five-deep up our street He holds the
blade inside his hand tightly 'til their eyes meet Before he stabbed him in the
abdomen he screams the
wrong name Thought it was Bobby, he punctured his lungs with the
long shank Jumped into his whip, pedal to the
floor with his friends Thinkin justice is sweet when it ends with revenge Only problem is Bobby wasn't the
dude screamin Jesus Bleedin in the
street, it was Timmy with the
same features He worked for the
Boys Club, no drugs, no thugs Now he's slumped in the
street chokin on his own blood It's mistaken identity "You know the
evil that men do, hell is where the
men go" "And the
game won't change, it's the
same old thing"