O.c.

O.c. - Memory Lane

rate me

[O.C.]

Reminisce about my childhood, doin things kids did

Roughhouse, playin in abandoned lots, throwin rocks

Trashcan tops wearin caps in America

That part of time be, tracked in my mind, it never blurs

I sometimes visit my youth

Close my eyes and think to alive, sittin on the stoop

of my crib it's weird, we had the "Our Gang" shit jumpin off

Bring it up to date, a couple are gone

Anyway, we was tight knit, mixed with, Spanish and black kids

Inner-city youth, colorblind

Even though we'd fight and clash, we'd get past the nonsense

With no grown folk intervenin, we conscious

Do it on our own with caution

Punches are thrown, but a hour later we talkin

If things get out of proportion, we adjust the fuss

and turn it to fun, no more sqwakin

Who thought about things like guns and coffins

A child's mind nowadays wanna be flossin

I didn't grow up fast but I knew a hardhead

Left the store fast, 70's child, respect that

'Til this, day and time, them moments I hold precious

Deep in a child's place taught a nigga life lessons

Up until the moment I chose this profession

Work hard but there's no such thing as perfection

I often sit and say to myself this be a blessing

Forseein my callin in my adolescence, destined

to get the cars, the fly clothes, I stand froze

Thinkin back, swingin in the snow, makin angels

[O.C.]

Yeah, yo, harsh reality smacked me in the face as a pre-teen

Some of my mans got caught up in the street dream

Hustlin it wasn't my thing, yet I knew

some who did it and did it well, you know this tale

But there's a slight twist to this ghetto tale I tell

I had a cousin named Orell he was funny as hell

His momma name was Pearl, so I called her All Pearl

Auntie had a job offer in Cali in the San Diego jail

So she packed up her shit and split, from my uncle

They was married a decade and five cent, now fate

Me and my cousin's tight, the youngest out my nanny grandbabies

Let me show ya why life is crazy

When we used to sham people, it never dawns on ya

that ya might not see 'em no more, I could remember

He was 5, I was 8, playin in front of my gate

Momma tellin us to come in cause it's time to ate

Say grace over food my providers was great

Sayin peace to mom and pop still alive today

I recall one of my cousins goin out to California

Comin back tellin us niggaz dyin over colors

He told me 'bout, khaki wearin, jheri curl brothers

Doin drivebys in cars with machine guns bustin

I found it farfetched, thinkin his story is stretched

Findin out later on about the West coast sets

Let me fast-forward the story and tell ya how it ends

They moved to start a new life for his life to end

Come to find out later on he was Blood inducted

From the same set he claimed was the Blood who bucked him

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