Granny's Couch
Tony Tillman Lyrics

Back when I was in the hood I use to try to figure out
How to get some paper quick and get up off my granny's couch
Local jobs didn't hire felons so I took the bandit route
Started selling crack and sack of weed from out my granny's house
Bought a 25 and copped some packs, head got big 'cause now I got this strap
Hitting licks you kno I'm down with that
Hit the block not far from round the tracks
Adams Ave I'm tryna make some moves, paranoid don't wanna make the news

'Til the day I heard the call of God And then I smartened up like I went back to school
Just another lost soul on that side throwing signs
And banging on the west side
Rude boys them die to get respect
And eying somebody's necklace hanging like a necktie

Blowing smoke just tryna cope to live, was either that or overdose on pills
Low on doe so we were broke for real
Thought selling dope would buy my folks a crib

Now most my homies either goners or they hit them corners tryna keep the rent paid,
Life's a hassle feel they have to hustle til they shackled down like kunta kente'
Renewed my mind was glad to rearrange, flagrant two I had to leave the game
Freedom riders never freed of pain, free my dawgs it hurts to see em chained

Back when I was in the hood I use to try to figure out, how to get off granny couch
And move into a bigger house
Done got up out the hood
And now I'm tryna figure out, how to get my Hittas out, how to free my hittas now

The hood's like prison we all some lifers, all got raps I ain't talking cyphers
Homeboy can barely buy his daughter diapers
He bout to jack son I ain't talking Michael

I'm talking bout hands up don't make a sound, run what u got homie lay on the ground
You can get shot better not play around, ain't got no hope so he stay on that brown

Lost and never seen as prospects, rejects, never gonna leave the projects
Respect, hold it back and you'll get popped at
Anything can turn into a cause to cock that

Welcome to the lockness watch where you stepping, land of the lost dreams home of the reckless
Watch who you mess with he prolly got weapons, got nothing to live for
And no fear of death, God bless him

City gentrify the house they rent they moving out ain't got nowhere to go
Police come through on some bogus stop and frisk so crooked cops is all they know

Mama work can't get the raise on minimum wage she skipping bills for food and clothes
Had to sell the furniture to pay for lights so now we sleeping on the floor

I kno that story all too well boy, all too good
'Cause in the hood ain't no fairy tales boy

No hope and so they giving up right there, they live in a nightmare
Some of em rather go to jail

And that's, window pain through my window frames
I'm praying the good Lord will bring em change
And free em from the prisons they got in their brains
I hate to see my people in them chains

Back when I was in the hood I use to try to figure out
How to get off granny couch and move into a bigger house
I done got up out the hood and now I'm tryna figure out
How to get my Hittas out, how to free my hittas now