The Streets - Viro the Virus

Decypher on the beat

Viro with the speech

It’s where the pigs roll deep and even chickens hold heat

I know these streets like a butcher knows beef

I can get you a timepiece for cheap

Just creep along the railroad tracks and ask for Pete

Since a teen I’ve been having street dreams

Used to hop the train to peep the street scene

My walkman banging Wu-Tang's C.R.E.A.M

Writing rhymes in my head thinking of hair-brained schemes

New-made themes and ways to get green

Cause police sirens make it hotter than sunbeams

I get her done got no time for half stepping

Don’t wanna get slugged from a hit-and-run at the intersection

I know these streets better than close associates

So don’t be second-guessing my directions

It’s not what you know but who you do

And though it’s ugly what they can do to you

Still the streets are beautiful

You don’t know 'em you don’t know 'em homie

You don’t know 'em you don’t know 'em yo

It’s NJ all day and

You don’t know 'em you don’t know 'em yo

Uh, uh, uh

I dodge the speed traps where cops hide

Spot the blocks where the ho’s be at and find time to stop by

Then bum a ride to the town’s other side

Where me and Tone Bone first went to get high

Still know where to get them pills

Blue footballs and mellow yellows a block over that hill

I know the corners where the OGs be wilding

And the others where the young balls be freestyling

I know that road where my man crashed his van and died in '99 just like the

back of my hand

It’s up near where the barber shop is at

Where I once battled a cat to Fab’s holla back track

I know the pizza shop where Darry and Keeby rocked

Over some high school shit and Keeby cleaned his clock

I known these streets since back then

So me and them are old friends and you don’t know us, what

Yeah, yeah, yeah

I strut the alleyways with alley cats, 'til I flatten my shoes

You don’t know these avenues the way that I do

You don’t know these boulevards I be strolling on

Shopping at the weed spots 'til all the dro is gone

I leave crosswalks ignored, J-walking while passersby honk their horns

And I reply just gotta do what I gotta

I know the users, the dealers and all they’re baby mommas

I know the detours and backstreets

I know the fastest to get there if you happen to be on feet

I know every spot in the road with a pothole

And where the stick up kids roam so not to go alone

I know these streets like my home and got the cajones to walk any like it’s my

own

It won’t lower my tone cause these streets are where this poet was grown

they’re all I’ve known and