Take Ya Time - Sunz Of Man

Uh, every project Article One

Every hood, every ghetto

Freedom of Speech, this one we gon’talk to them

This goes out to the hoods, 4th Disciple

Every ghetto need a government, you know?

Think of the times, man, when responsibilities become for real

From Red Hook to Ohio, baby, A-One

Take your time, young man, I remember they used to say

All that glitter ain’t gold, I remember they used to say

You got to live your life… you got to live your life

Take your time, young man

We was young men, never thought it would come to an end

In the projects, I lived there, Red Hook, Brooklyn

Before kings got shot at, for beige sheep skins

Reminiscin’on the nights we didn’t listen to Glenn

On the stoupe, smokin’weed drinkin’a fifth of gin

We had the same Timberlands before that winter came in Now I begin to make a change before my seed get ten

In the womb of the beast, we like the seed that sin

Through the children is the only way we breathe again

We never notice it, but still the drug game, is over with

You either die or go to jail, for the one controllin’it

We never ship it, but always get caught for holdin’it

While the government finance those who float it in So who’se the culprits?

The one ownin’it or who be smokin’it?

To those who lost souls in the game, to my condolences

Flashback to all the past blacks, died for cracks

Made grandmothers faint out, and have heart attacks

Fuck a democrat, welcomin’mat, we send them back

Til we take back the almanac, to plan a format

Never saw in rap, on a A-DAT, for real

In my ghetto, son, the walls have ears

Same rumors carried on for years, more and more forties and beers

Reminiscin’on the pictures we shared, coffee park

You blunted on the benches and stairs, and never scared

Nigga violate at all, toe to toe in the square

Elevator ride, you play a corner or catch a black eye

Hot piece and butter, find a bell, taste the fat guy

Back then, Black and Sly Time, had the loudest ride

We went from petty crime, to up north, to federal time

Money circulate, some paper chase for nickels and dimes

Some will die while they was holdin’they steel, in automobiles

You noticin’the snake eyes was all in his grill

From success, come the envious, revenge and sex

In the projects, no tellin’if you death be next

Gamblin’bets, debts turn to techs and threats

We all strugglin’from Puerto Ricans down to Aztecs

All my young’ns, comin’up.