Текст песни
You might think that you know me
You know where I’m coming from
You might think everything’s all good
But at the end of the day you’re all wrong!
All blue chuck taylors, blue dodger hat
85 Regal, my daughter in the back
I’m just a gangsta to most of y’all
On the real we’re just hanging on the way to the mall
Week days I’m Rn down at kaiser Weekends at church, I’m a youth adviser
Just because I’m doing good I can’t forget my roots
I can never feel right in a tie & suit
501's a plain white «t» and I stay gettin' stopped by the LAPD
That’s just life growin' up in south central
I been done move, but it’s not that simple
I gotta come back, my grandmomma there
Sometimes it’s drama, but I really don’t care
Here’s my neighbourhood and I love it
Showin' all the little homies you can rise above it!
You might think that you know me
You know where I’m coming from
You might think everything’s all good
But at the end of the day you’re all wrong!
All red chuck taylors and red dodger hat
Posted up at market with a bottle and gat
I’m just a gangsta, that’s what they say
But on the real homeboy I just had a bad day
Ten interviews, no call backs
PO askin' me where my job at
I’m an ex-kind and almost juiceless
I’m a felon, don’t mean that I’m stupid
Got cut op, tribers in the dope
Lost five years of my life as a result
In the feds I prayed and I read
Anything to keep the system out of my head
I read Zinn, Jung, Bukowski
You really don’t know a damn thing about me
I probably gotta higher IQ than you
These jobs ain’t hiring, what should I do
You might think that you know me
You know where I’m coming from
You might think everything’s all good
But at the end of the day you’re all wrong!
Black dickies, black Cortez
White wife beater, a fresh shaved head
I’m just a gangsta, that’s what you thinkin'
You see me in the crew, posted up by Lincoln
You see my tattoos, figure why I bother
Really I’m an artist and I got my own palla
Hard workin' father, wife and two daughters
Strugglin', trying to keep our heads above water
I’m a tax payer, I’m bilingual
I’m chicano, I’m not an illegal
Tryin' to live your American dream
But you keep judging me about how I wear my jeans
They’re 42s, they’re starched and they greased
I gotta education, I got proper speech
I’m from the streets, I’m not less of a man
Just trying to get by and do the best that I can!
You might think that you know me
You know where I’m coming from
You might think everything’s all good
But at the end of the day you’re all wrong!