Ernee - Cj Fly, Dirty Sanchez 47

You don’t even look like a man, you know what I’m saying

So you don’t really need the money but at the same time

It’s so hard growing up in the hood, people don’t really understand

Everybody got their mom’s and they pops and they got they catholic schools

And they got their brothers and their little dog Scruffy

In they backyard, but it’s not like that in Brooklyn

This is dedicated to all my ghetto men, and lady friends

Those in the hood that ain’t doing what they should

And I recall this one, the incompatible capital?

Yo ever since I was a snot-nose

I grew up close to Kosciusko

Got mad ho’s that got mad low if you had known

Same wars sneaking through back doors with they backs on

My back yo, bet you got played like banjo’s

I admit it, I’m an asshole

Mess your day up like bad jokes, or bad Joe no bad shows

I think it’s best you know five o’s, El Diablo

Keep one eye closed till your shine grows your fine soul

The pines roll and my minds blown

I meditate the elevated to another fucking time zone

Fly in the astral planes, but still I have to train

If no one gets the picture then that must mean that you can’t be framed

I know you think that life is sweet, sweet

Not in these streets, streets

When you see blood up on the concrete

Been working on these projects

And these projects where I’m from

Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn

Life ain’t promised where I’m from

I’m from the slums where you don’t run son

Live by the gun, die by the gun

Some catch the street smarts and some dumb

Some of them feel me but some numb

All I can say is, one love to the young thugs getting their lungs strung

Ever since a kid all I wanted to do is play

Got a little older, found out about the game

Ain’t care about the fame all I wanted was a name

Dreaming big ever since I was a shorty

Ever since a kid all I wanted to do is play

Got a little older, found out about the game

Ain’t care about the name all I wanted was the fame

Dreaming big ever since I was a shorty

They been like 'Dirty this is real life shit,' oh yeah

I’m just a cool laid back nigga, no beach chair

Dirty San from Brooklyn, what is not clear

And my people interfere because they’re not scared

Little kids kick rocks with miss-matched socks

It hurt to kick it, drinking quarter-waters

Money is liquid

Been looking for the golden ticket

Them April showers fooled me

All month living gloomy

Flowers may never bloom

Black petunia, tune your radios into the radio-activist

Throwing up half a… (CJ Fly: Chill)

I been living on the edge

My legs are dangling off of a ledge

Fuck school, I seek knowledge

God mind, it takes one to know who to acknowledge

Got these suicidal thoughts like Christopher Wallace

That’s that, do or die mentality

Women that call me sweet, end up with bad cavities

Somebody call the pope, Beast Coast about calamity

Just cause you’re my neighbour

That don’t mean that we’re close

Eyes open, look close into the future

To my mexicanos truchas or Medusa

You gone face these streets flooded with snakes and leaches

And they can suck me, I been corrupted

By the creaming peaches, I’m mutant leaving em' speechless

Looking for the top but we don’t know where the peak is

Fuck your weakness, your weekend, 47 speaking