Crackbaby Generation
See I was born in '91 in west Harlem all my classmates was born on crack yea
That epidemic had my family going crazy we should leave and never want to come back
And I see God inside the eyes of these high'd up feens
And mother Mary in they cut up jeans I hope you make it my friend
I hope you make it my friend I hope you make it my friend
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation (Generation)
Grey skies black floors red eyes crack costs a nigga soul
So don't be fooled by fake smiles 'cause that's false
Fold or fight hold it tight I see them trading gold for white
And since the days of dolemite this man name Ray been smoking pipe
He had a dream of being seen on them color T.V. screens
A saxophone his jazzy ways sent back his home a little green
To raise his kids make it big dodging loan sharks and crime temptations to face a bid
Well, anything to save his lid until
He caught a wiff of something stronger than a spliff
He loved the feeling a temporary healing he thought he couldn't get
Stepped it further black the bottom of that pipe up
Backstage broke as ever steady trying to hit his wife up
He left his music felt it was useless he got control he'll never lose it
He smoked his love and felt the drugs he couldn't help confuse it
Now daddy lost it all all in all he's still a dreamer where's his wife yo have you seen her
Then walk it off
See I was born in '91 in west Harlem all my classmates was born on crack yea
That epidemic had my family going crazy we should leave and never want to come back
And I see God inside the eyes of these high'd up feens
And mother Mary in they cut up jeans I hope you make it my friend
I hope you make it my friend I hope you make it my friend
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation (Generation)
Little Ray I hope you good my nigga stay in school harder than it sounds
He on the strip to sell the shit that brought his father to the ground
It's like yo fuck that cycle shit you be talking and keep on walking
Yea it took his daddy down but look at all the shit it bought him
Cable, light his momma stressing this song is so depressing
Little sister need some sneakers why you think he's so obsessive
It's all good it's alright 'cause big brother gon' be getting it all night
You know the story Tony Pauly all that gun play shit
I mean, how fucking common can gun play get
He ain't too tightly wrapped he nightly strapped
And if you want to fight me scrap and if I take a L it's more than likely that I might be back
Type shit i guess his fear was never death he never left
He's seen too much to let them scare him out his steps
But here's them shots now watch him drop damn shorty lost it all
He was a dreamer now it's too late to tell him to walk it off
See I was born in '91 in west Harlem all my classmates was born on crack yea
That epidemic had my family going crazy we should leave and never want to come back
And I see God inside the eyes of these high'd up feens
And mother Mary in they cut up jeans I hope you make it my friend
I hope you make it my friend I hope you make it my friend
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation (Generation)
That epidemic had my family going crazy we should leave and never want to come back
And I see God inside the eyes of these high'd up feens
And mother Mary in they cut up jeans I hope you make it my friend
I hope you make it my friend I hope you make it my friend
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation (Generation)
Grey skies black floors red eyes crack costs a nigga soul
So don't be fooled by fake smiles 'cause that's false
Fold or fight hold it tight I see them trading gold for white
And since the days of dolemite this man name Ray been smoking pipe
He had a dream of being seen on them color T.V. screens
A saxophone his jazzy ways sent back his home a little green
To raise his kids make it big dodging loan sharks and crime temptations to face a bid
Well, anything to save his lid until
He caught a wiff of something stronger than a spliff
He loved the feeling a temporary healing he thought he couldn't get
Stepped it further black the bottom of that pipe up
Backstage broke as ever steady trying to hit his wife up
He left his music felt it was useless he got control he'll never lose it
He smoked his love and felt the drugs he couldn't help confuse it
Now daddy lost it all all in all he's still a dreamer where's his wife yo have you seen her
Then walk it off
See I was born in '91 in west Harlem all my classmates was born on crack yea
That epidemic had my family going crazy we should leave and never want to come back
And I see God inside the eyes of these high'd up feens
And mother Mary in they cut up jeans I hope you make it my friend
I hope you make it my friend I hope you make it my friend
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation (Generation)
Little Ray I hope you good my nigga stay in school harder than it sounds
He on the strip to sell the shit that brought his father to the ground
It's like yo fuck that cycle shit you be talking and keep on walking
Yea it took his daddy down but look at all the shit it bought him
Cable, light his momma stressing this song is so depressing
Little sister need some sneakers why you think he's so obsessive
It's all good it's alright 'cause big brother gon' be getting it all night
You know the story Tony Pauly all that gun play shit
I mean, how fucking common can gun play get
He ain't too tightly wrapped he nightly strapped
And if you want to fight me scrap and if I take a L it's more than likely that I might be back
Type shit i guess his fear was never death he never left
He's seen too much to let them scare him out his steps
But here's them shots now watch him drop damn shorty lost it all
He was a dreamer now it's too late to tell him to walk it off
See I was born in '91 in west Harlem all my classmates was born on crack yea
That epidemic had my family going crazy we should leave and never want to come back
And I see God inside the eyes of these high'd up feens
And mother Mary in they cut up jeans I hope you make it my friend
I hope you make it my friend I hope you make it my friend
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation
We from the crack baby generation (Generation)
Credits
Writer(s): Jacob Hernandez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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