West 9th street

Last night rolled up tha block
to a lil spot called west 9th st.
all tha homies were there..
kickin it outside.
music bumps, and cop cars scream
sumwhere off in tha distance....
tare open tha 24 packs...
out comes tha smirnoff vodka
Sour Apple wrapped up in a brown paper bag....
people starten to get loud now..
time to move it inside...
kic back on tha bed...
talk shit to one another...
bring up old times...
when Regi thought he was El Chingon..lil vato cruzzin on his bike..
feelin kinda perked now...
Tykey strolls in with his peach wrapped blunt..tha only black fool thats kicks
it with us....grew up in tha same hood...he might as well be mixican....
we tell him not to forget us when he gets on MTV.....
laughter takes over all our conversations....
tha house smells like booze and vomit..
feelin kinda dizzy now...
yup..these are tha moments that make up our memories.....
in 10 years....these will be tha
"old times" that we talk about...
...as we kick it on west 9th...