"Hard Concrete" as written by and Raymond Riley....
While growin' up in the ghetto my time went fast
See, I be stealin' from the grown-ups, runnin' from the tasks
As I dash through the grass everyday skippin' class
My daddy don't be trippin', so you can kiss my ass
Pass the doobie-doo on the left hand side
Only 9 years old gettin' high, gettin' high
I wonder why my teacher's sweatin' me, I did my history
It don't relate to me, my GPA 1.3
See, I remember places, them names, streets, dates
Anybody rollin' with stolen license plates
But if that flake out-of-date shit wasn't in my way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 math I am the finest
Countin' mail faster than you can say yo highness
Don't come at me with dryness 'cause I know the definition
Of any slang word, so what's that synonym you're wishin'?
I want to be a lawyer, accuse a liar like LaToya
So I'm droppin' the fourth grade, slingin' lemonade
I am my own keeper, a young overachiever
Ten cents a cup, I'mma 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 be fuckin' 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 gaffle you
They say we growin' up fast, but we just dyin' faster

(Always strapped and eager to peel a cap)
(Slammed the child on the hard concrete)
(Always strapped and eager to peel a cap)
(Slammed the child on the hard concrete)
(Always strapped and eager to peel a cap)
(Slammed the child on the hard concrete)
(Always strapped and eager to peel a cap)
(Slammed 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 figure my life is gon' be bigger and better
When that path I'mm rollin' on is similar to that crooked letter?
Once I get a better view, check out the avenue
It's drug infested, planted there just for me to be tested
On the hard concrete, now it's three years later
Can't fuck with little league, pops be up stackin that refrigerator
8 o'clock I see Shirley down the block in a 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 9 months later at my door she showed up
Damn, I was stuck, reminiscin' in my seat
I just turned 16, but to me it's not sweet, peep
No edumaction, this combination of ghetto life is a strain
Pass the Bengay cream, 18 lookin' old as Don King
Indo in my brain keep askin' me
How many years is it until my life expectancy?
Well let's see, another three done ticked away
And now that hustlin' game's 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

(Always strapped and eager to peel a cap)
(Slammed the child on the hard concrete)
(Always strapped and eager to peel a cap)
(Slammed the child on the hard concrete)
(Always strapped and eager to peel a cap)
(Slammed the child on the hard concrete)
(Always strapped and eager to peel a cap)
(Slammed the child on the hard concrete)


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"Hard Concrete" as written by Raymond Riley

Lyrics © MUSIC OF WINDSWEPT

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Hard Concrete song meanings
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