Artist: Sick Jacken f/ B-Real (Cypress Hill) Album: Stray Bullets Song: The Sickside Typed by: VIPER~SwinnY [Verse 1. Sick Jacken] Let me tell you about my hood, let me tell you about my block So many hoodlums, so many cops Two ways out, get paid or in a box One way to win, do what you can and shake the spot Slugs, pills, a lot of drug deals and thugs killed It's all for money and the power cause the buck's real And if you're scared homie you can cop a church, kneel Pray to God, see if he even gives a fuck still There's no religion, just these concrete saints That only kneel when the sharpness shanks In the street and in the holding tanks In the west by the ? banks Where in war does your army rank? Soldier, I seen this shit young That's my poison tongue Only spits about my boys with guns Fire got you shook, you only hear the noise and run And that fear makes extortion fun You ain't the one [Chorus] If all hoods are the same, let me tell you about mine All these young kids doing street level crime Some on the run and some doing time We gotta turn these kids to a sickside mind Cali is sick, New York is sick Chi-town sick, the whole block sick When you're out on the street doing dirt with your clique Just remember the legit gets the law of the dick [Verse 2. B Real] Now I don't want to be stuck with this bad luck shit All you mushed out bitches I can't fuck with This whole subject is painful, I love it We share the stories not meant for the public We struggle to get here, next year new story Taking over, wait's over, best feel the change over What it took to prosper, no apologies to offer Got the best you can put on a roster Psycho sick, assassins sick Every now and then we need a revolution So we spray the hallways You're in a haze when the song plays And you don't want to come at us the wrong way It's only for some, this crazy ass city we run It's in our blood, we live and die by the gun Wipe your tears or the blood right in front of your eyes This city is cold and she don't cry when you die [Chorus] If all hoods are the same, let me tell you about mine All these young kids doing street level crime Some on the run and some doing time We gotta turn these kids to a sickside mind LA is sick, New Jersey is sick Beantown sick, the whole block sick When you're out on the street doing dirt with your clique Just remember the legit gets the law of the dick [Verse 3. Sick Jacken] I'm from a crooked angle, eh homie make my dust angel This city block got me locked in a tight strangle Graffiti bombs, see these walls by the knife angle At least too raw, milli wars and the stars spangled That's what the ? is for, exercise the art of war In the hood but not in yours, that's when the shotties rock Watch where you're at man, the streets in a constant spar Don't try to be a hero, that's what the cops are for The lifestyle we lead is money, whiskey, and weed And gun battles make it risky indeed No money, more problems got my city in need It's CA all day where we hustle and bleed Scrape the Cali concrete for dope Stay hungry in the street cause this music shit's about to blow Trying to stay out of the county so I dodge the law And these enemies that plot my fall, fuck em all [Chorus] If all hoods are the same, let me tell you about mine All these young kids doing street level crime Some on the run and some doing time We gotta turn these kids to a sickside mind Atlanta is sick, Philly stay sick Texas sick, the whole block sick When you're out on the street doing dirt with your clique Just remember the legit gets the law of the dick