Strong Island

One thing's for sure when you grow up in the hood,
you're bound to come across no good niggas,
being up to no good.
Cat calling from corners,
that shit is just rude.
Then they wonder why NY women
have such a bad attitude.
But see there was this one dude,
he was different-- unlike the rest.
Up there rolling dice,
but somehow not trying to impress.
Guess,
you can say that's what caught my eye.
An innate swag,
he didn't have to try.
Broke from his boys to give me
the number to his beeper.
Before walking off,
told me could tell I was a keeper.
Yo I'm telling you on the outside looking in
you would've thought the scene had been staged.
Irregular heart palpitations when he pulled from his blunt and told me to use code
143 when I paged.
Like what kind of game,
this guy hardly knew my name.
Yeah he was a ruffneck
my friends and I all agreed,
and I've been hurt by others just like him,
so with him I decided to take heed.
I mean he pushed dope and sold weed,
and those kind of problems,
I absolutely did not need.
But when we would meet,
he was sweet.
And despite the naysayers,
when he was with me
like an onion,
he peeled back his layers.
Fell for me hard and honestly quite fast,
and as reluctant as I was,
I surprisingly had feelings for a man that could be caught standing up on
Straight Path.
Praying daily that this bad boy lifestyle
he would eventually stop,
but I knew sooner or later the other shoe was destined to drop.
Busted one day closing up shop,
my man got arrested and charged for dealing
to an undercover cop.
Left to converse through letters
he serves out his bid in jail,
sadly there's no such thing as a ghetto fairytale.
When you're from the hood perhaps you'll be fortunate enough to meet the one.
Just be sure he's ready to give up sitting on the block,
in order to stand with you
in the sun.