The Years - Slaine

Lets take em back

To makings of a king

We go back in time

Check it out, yea

Yow

Dreams come through but not for sleepers

When I was nine I go a box and knocked the speakers

Beasties rockin, finger poppin

Girlies by the bleachers

Feening for the but couldn’t cop the sneakers

I had the lines of ratsio

Prior to the ball fade of Caesar

In little league I prayed to jesus I would be a major leaguer

But spring fever got replaced by the taste of beaver

Before long a bag of chicken heads and blazing reefer

I ran the streets and learn to find my way through shisty rackets

Rocky Cortez classics and black nikey jackets

But for my dudes that are locked up psychiatrics

I wrote these rhymes for and shadow that I might be at this

My theatrics beginnin

I started pennin what I been in

Drinkin gin and chewin gum

Stakin and a cinnamon

Smokin blunts this is minimum wage

Wrote some day I’m gonna make it with this pen and a page

Sayin

The years fucked up, the years

The years fucked up, the years

I twist a bottle cap, provide a little hennessy

In the stairs for my peers in their memory

The years fucked up, the years

The years fucked up, the years

For years I had felt I was roamin in a cemetery

My own words now I’m holdin on to memory

I moved to New York at the age of eighteen

Left where I grew up

Right before the kids aroun the wayside had the shoot up

Poppin these pills back and forth

With the dust took the bus

Back to mass drive my class

Stack my loot up

Movin with them DMS kids

And now I’m crewed up

Me and Damn One drinking beers

Gettin screwed up

Layin down rhymes on the sample

See with flip doin dips

Turntables and a mike

No computer

No booth from the roof tops

I walked in my tube socks

Smokin oh ops

My boom box breaks from do whop tapes

And 2Pac's great

Shortly after Biggy was killed

It was apparent to me then I’d need my level and will

If I wanna make it either that or head for the hills

Myconnect not that cut off the bread for the pills

But my head was gettin bigger

And I’m head over heals

That’s when everybody figured I’d be dead or in jail

So I came back home

I’m half dead but still

Addiction was clickin but years in my head they were turnin

And I ain’t have a nickle but a flicker

Of the fire that was burnin through

Turn into a ball of flames

In the winter the furnace blew

Friends is on the fringes

Bingin on syringes

Relentless ever since

With my mental in the trenches

Gangsta puttin dollars in my projects

Got a pension for some violence

And this end with no logic

So this is how it has to be

Trapped in a catastrophe

Robbed a studio with cats

And now the cats is after me

Really for no reason

But they gassed up on a half of key

That ain’t no embellishment

I’m tellin you it’s actually

Before this dude had a chance to put cap in me

He got popped for a robbery

And takin off a jack

I started volume one

It’s crazy how the past repeat

Cause that’s the same robbery the town will reenact with me

It’s crazy