The Weather

Sometimes the weather takes me back to the days of crazy summers
With Aunt Blanche telling me to run and play the numbers
I'm tryna make it to the park to satisfy your hunger
For the DJ cuttin' up "Let's Dance" or "Funky Drummer"

Those gorilla-sized speakers was taller than five feet, huss
The roof by the basketball courts, that's where my seat was
Where powerlines were full of pigeons or fly sneakers
That died a miserable death hanging high in the heat, but

I wouldn't change a thing if I could
What made me is everything: The bad, the ugly, the good
It's understood that South Philly was a marvel, I'd never be one to argue
The cracks in the pavement, front steps made of marble
The smell of Pine-Sol, my grandmother kept 'em clean, y'all

The vestibule's a section of floor behind the screen door
Runners over the shag carpet, I'm not feeling
Wood paneling on the walls up to the drop ceiling
All the furniture draped in thick transparent layers of vinyl

All the chairs, the sofa, the record player kept Mahalia spinning
Minnie be grinning knowin' I done spent a day of penny pinching and sinning
See her in the kitchen cooking fish or chicken depending on what day it is
If I'm staying there, then, yeah, that's just the way it is

If she say it is, in Minnie crib, the time froze
After sundown, you keep them curtains and the blinds closed
Watch how far back the La-Z-Boy recline goes
Peppermints in the Lazy Susan, never mind those

TV on whether or not somebody watching it
The floor model was broke, portable on top of it
The last bastion of hope to document the era
Was Kodacolor imagery and memories put together

Throw the keys down to Keisha, tell her, "Slide up"
Box full of her possessions said, "This side up"
Last night her baby father came home highed up
Tight, talkin' 'bout the way his money all tied up

Shades covering her eyes, what? We gon' ride, yup
Homie in for a surprise, I done went from when we played
Halfball, stickball, dodgeball, and kickball
From ten in the morning 'til somebody got pissed off

Hollerin' 'bout, "Alright, it's over, I ain't fuckin' with y'all"
Fiends on the corner always preparing for liftoff
Grown people used to get dressed to come and sit
Cross-legged on they relatives' steps

We all chips off the block, the sips off the pop
We passed 'round like a hit from a spliff, you take two and pass it down
Herd immunity, the definition of community
The only neighbor that never knocked is opportunity

Them old heads be shootin' craps and droppin' jewelry
In high tops sneakers and slacks, but it's a eulogy
Twice a month, cocaine prices up
People get they wigs peeled shakin' them dices up

I heard it's some weak brothers claiming they nice as us
When it's time for a show of force, the price is what?
Innocence is lost over crime, we was all before our primes
Some was married to the game, then divorced it over time
Faded pictures in a frame helped to form a frame of mind
Into a train of thought capable of stoppin' on a dime