FANDOM

1,947,587 Pages

StarIconBronze
CertIcon
LangIcon
Hard Concrete

This song is by The Coup and appears on the album Genocide & Juice (1994).

Watch video at YouTube
While growing up in the ghetto, my time went fast
See I be stealing from the grown ups, running from the tasks
As I dash through the grass everyday, skipping class
My daddy don't be tripping, so you can kiss my ass

Pass the dougie doobie left hand side
Only nine years old getting high, getting high
I wonder why my teacher's sweating me, I did my history
It don't relate to me, my GPA 1.3

See I remember places, the names, streets, dates
Anybody rolling with stolen license plates
But if that faked out-of-date shit wasn't in my way
Ask me anything or where I'm from, I bet I get an A minus

In fact I am the finest
Counting male faster than you can say, "Your highness"
Don't combat me with dryness
'Cause I know the definition of any slang word
So what's that synonym you're wishing?

I want to be a lawyer
Accused of a liar like LaToya
So I'm dropping the fourth grade, slinging lemonade
I am my own keeper, a young overachiever
Ten cents a cup, I'm a gonna have to leave that shit to Beaver

Now I lay me down to sleep 'cause I can't eat my noodles right
Dead bodies every other night, we fucking up the appetite
Tragedy is an everyday thing
Put on a video game, sip some Tang, if I can't stand the pain

Give me the knowledge from the street, now watch me learn it
I went to get a job but too young for a work permit
Don't come my way (fool) I might just have to gack
They say we growing up fast, but we just dying faster

Always dropping the good or villain cop
Slam the child on the hard concrete
Always dropping the good or villain cop
Slam the child on the hard concrete

Always dropping the good or villain cop
Slam the child on the hard concrete
Always dropping the good or villain cop
Slam the child on the hard concrete

Well, it's June 17th, it couldn't have came to me no quicker
11 years old, my chest a little thicker
How you figger my life is gonna be bigger and better
When that path I'm rolling on is similar to that crooked letter

Once I get a better view to check out that avenue
It's drug infested planted there just for me to be tested
On the hard concrete, now it's three years later
Came for me literally, caught me up stacking that refrigerator

Catching Shirley down the block in the bucket
She stepped to the back that's when i stuck it, fuck it
My first piece of butt, it was just my luck
'Cause nine months later at my door she showed up

Damn, I was stuck, reminiscing in my seat
I just turned sixteen but to me it's not sweet
No edumaction, this combination of ghetto life
Is a strain, pass the Ben-Gay cream
Eighteen looking as old as Don King

The indo in my brain keep asking me
How many years is it until my life expectancy
Well let's see, another three done take away
And now the hustling games a part of me everyday

My life is on the line, fool you can catch my fist
'Cause any other place can be a better place than this
I'm now dismissed, my body hit the concrete
The bullet had no name as it was introduced to me

The next morning, headline front page
Young man shot 'cause of death: old age

Try to rise above it all
Or drown in

Always dropping the good or villain cop
Slam the child on the hard concrete
Always dropping the good or villain cop
Slam the child on the hard concrete

Always dropping the good or villain cop
Slam the child on the hard concrete
Always dropping the good or villain cop
Slam the child on the hard concrete

Man, this is really something
Man, this is really something

Written by:

Raymond Riley Wikipedia16

annotations:

Ben-Gay Wikipedia16 / Don King Wikipedia16

External links