Testo:
© DyeVerse
Chorus – 8 Bars]
Where all my people from the block at?
Throw the middle fingers at the cops as they drive past!
Posted on the corner where the love at,
Loud beats, brown bag, old school hub caps.
We ain’t perfect but we stand tall,
Cookouts, fist bumps, hoop game, handball.
This for the fam that the struggle made strong—
If you from the hood, then you already belong!
[Verse 1 – 16 Bars]
Summertime sizzle, kids runnin’ through the hydrant,
OGs chillin’ with the dice, talkin’ mileage.
Chain-link dreams and a shoebox hustle,
Learned how to scrap, how to love, how to muscle.
Pavement taught more than a classroom lecture,
We bled on these steps, now we guard ’em like protectors.
Every scar, every loss got a reason,
Still we toast with the pain like it’s part of the season.
Uncles on the stoop tellin’ tales like prophets,
POPS on the grill puttin’ love in the process.
Raised by the block, by the code, by the pressure,
Now we link arms, hold it down like a treasure.
[Chorus – 8 Bars]
Where all my people from the block at?
Throw the middle fingers at the cops as they drive past!
Posted on the corner where the love at,
Loud beats, brown bag, old school hub caps.
We ain’t perfect but we stand tall,
Cookouts, fist bumps, hoop game, handball.
This for the fam that the struggle made strong—
If you from the hood, then you already belong!
[Verse 2 – 16 Bars]
Polo tees, fade clean, steppin’ with the swagger,
Hustlers turned fathers, now they teachin’ what matters.
Chalk on the pavement, names of the fallen,
Murals on the walls keep the memories talkin’.
Fireworks pop, block lit like Vegas,
Granny on the porch yellin’ “Y’all better behave!”
But she smile when the whole crew gathers for the plate,
Macaroni, fried fish, with a side of fate.
This ain’t just a place, it’s a feeling, a rhythm,
Heartbeat of the streets — real talk, no gimmick.
Unity’s the weapon when the world wanna break us,
So we dance in the flames ’cause the fire never shakes us.
[Chorus – 8 Bars]
Where all my people from the block at?
Throw the middle fingers at the cops as they drive past!
Posted on the corner where the love at,
Loud beats, brown bag, old school hub caps.
We ain’t perfect but we stand tall,
Cookouts, fist bumps, hoop game, handball.
This for the fam that the struggle made strong—
If you from the hood, then you already belong!
[Outro – 8 Bars Spoken/Chanted]
Yeah—this for the ones that never switched sides,
For the soul food, the slow jams, the street vibes.
We rose through the cracks like the flowers in the bricks,
Ain’t nothin’ like home when it’s built on grit.
So throw that fist up, let the system know,
We together, we forever, in that concrete glow.
One love to the blocks where the heart still beats,
From the gutter to the gold—this the soul of the streets. SO lets make sure the rest of the world
know, just because we about that business dosent
mean we dont radiate soul just like everywhere, we have our own share problems but we built on honor so its our shared duty to solve them stoop on by if you think you got nuts and after just one blunt youll change your mind about us
[Chorus – 8 Bars]
Where all my people from the block at?
Throw the middle fingers at the cops as they drive past!
Posted on the corner where the love at,
Loud beats, brown bag, old school hub caps.
We ain’t perfect but we stand tall,
Cookouts, fist bumps, hoop game, handball.
This for the fam that the struggle made strong—
If you from the hood, then you already belong!
