S.K.I.T.S. - Lord Finesse

It’s all real in the Nine-Four

Shorties kaught up in the system

Just close your eyes …

Picture a ghetto, break it down

Back in the days I was livin' swell see

I was ridin' bikes, rollerskatin' & playin' skelzies

But nowadays shit is different

Little kids be riffin', the motherfuckers won’t listen

Instead of shootin' tops they shoot Glocks

They point 'em at cops (*Blam*) and that’s the way they get props

Yo, they do what they wanna

Fuck a 9-to-5, they makin' G’s on the corner

Material things is what they want to scoop

They can’t get shit like that, workin' for no summer youth

They got clients, they livin' like giants

They got the whole drug shit to a science

They got, jewels and beepers, hundred dollar sneakers

Lexus coupes: Windows down boomin' the speakers

They got, bitches in flavors, probably fuckin' your neighbor

C’mon!

They got shit under control like the mayor

Man, you see the news today

So how you gonna tell these little kids that school’s the way?

Yo, it ain’t about I.Q.

Some of these kids are makin' more than doctors

And didn’t finish high school

Teenagers are caught up in the system

And God forbid if you front on 'em or try to diss 'em

They got everything, from Nines to shotguns

And they’ll put 2 in your chest and lounge til' the cops come

If you ain’t from the ghetto this is undercover

But in 94, shit is real like a motherfucker

Tryin' to strive 9-to-5 out in the street

There’s no rain or shine, trying to get ends to meet

Fuck the cops they don’t obey the law

And if you ain’t catch on by now, I ain’t even tryin' to say no more

I don’t give a fuck!

I’m just a squirrel, that’s out to get a nut

What?

That shit sucks!

And besides, I wouldn’t make enough

In this time and day, kids get paid in all kinds of ways

And get more respect, than niggas that’s three times they age

I know a child that’s runnin' wild

That say fuck playin' tag, he’s tryin' to get a hundred thou'

So it’s hard to find a stable child

Kids are watchin' violent movies, or either got cable now

And they catch on so quick

Bout time they hit 16 they be on some Nino Brown, G.I.

Joe shit

When school is out, they just wanna lamp

The last thing on they mind, is motherfuckin' summer camp

All they wanna do is clock dough, scoop bitches and get blunted

Kids is strapped, they be packin' shit

I seen shorties get iller than villains in some action flick

They say times is rough jack

And when you tell 'em cool out

Man they quick to say: Fuck that!