Front Steps Pt. Ii (tough Love) Songtext

von Akrobatik

Back on the front steps, you know what I'm sayin?
City done took away the jobs from all the youngins
Cats got nothin to do and shit
Shit is whack man
The summer days be hot (yeah)
Shit

Yo, to my niggas on the block, hangin out on the stoop
With your team you slang with and your little rap groups (uh)
Notorious throughout the low income neighborhoods
Accused as the reason why the hood'll always stay the hood
Organized to set up the trap, to set up the raps
But what if you organized your people dog, imagine that
You could be a young entrepreneur, never wantin for more
When po' come through, you not duckin to the corner store
They make us hate each other, by keepin us poor
But if you got your shit legit, tell 'em "fuck you!"
They shit outta luck too
Long as you pay your federal and state
They gotta keep their filthy hands off your general estate
Take it from a brother that been there, we in here
People livin in the hood, in prison, and in fear
Same thing they did to the Jews after the Holocaust (what?)
Stuff us in the ghettos and then we all are lost
And when we riot, they won't care about the dollars lost (uh)
They sippin cocktails, while we throw the Molotovs

"Kick the truth to the young black, black, black"
"Kick the truth to the young black youth, youth, black youth"

What, yo tough love
Yo, listen

My high school had no black teachers (true)
And very few students, who had similar features
That's where I caught my very first glimpse of how they do us (yep)
The privileged are learnin how to be entrepreneurs
While we die in the sewers
And the gutters, murkin each other with box-cutters
From one man's sin, the whole block suffers
Streets are floodin with the tears of distraught mothers
We have been trained to believe we are not brothers
You wouldn't say shit to Ted Danson
But if a brother's black, we act like Charles Manson (Manson)
What the fuck happened to advancin? (uh)
See, heads is too concerned with romancin the stone
Cook it up and serve it, then your hood rep's blown
But when po' enter the zone and handcuffs are shown
And your shorty's left alone at home with no pops
And mama you was tappin ain't givin you no props (props)
That bus is takin you up north with no stops
And you getting hosed down and laughed at by cops (uh)
You sayin that's the way you want to live, dude? (word?)
Never getting pussy and you eat what they give you
This ain't no war on drugs, it's a war on thugs
They supply the guns, we supply the bodies with slugs (slugs)
Most of these crack-dealer rappers is herbs
See they 35, married, and they livin in the 'burbs (true indeed)
Makin money off of your lifestyle
But you idolize 'em cause they move units and that's wild (wild)
These labels ain't fuckin with you if you ain't coachable
These labels ain't fuckin with you if you ain't approachable
You see, there's more to life than rap and crack sales (sales)
But that info ain't made readily available to black males
They shut down the conscious rastas
But talk about being a pimp, you'll get an Oscar
I'm sick of seeing y'all locked up and killed
And if the O.G.'s don't tell you, tell me who the fuck will?

Tough love, tough love, tough love, tough love, tough love

Yeah, kick the truth to the young black youth, what?

"Kick, kick, kick, kick, kick the truth, truth"
"Kick the truth to the young black youth, youth"
"Kick, kick, kick the truth, truth, truth"
"To the, to the young black youth, youth"
"To the youth, to the young black youth"
"To the young, young black youth"
"To the young black, black, black, black, black, black, black, black, black, black, black, black youth"
"Black youth, black youth, black youth ..."