Harsh Realities (167 Reprise) - Emilio Rojas

Yeah, I saw a woman get hit on Amsterdam, she tryna cop her some shit

Right across from the barber shop, a car on top of her head

That Columbian Presbyterian pronouncin' her dead

She died the first time the needle ever punctured her skin

Now are we citizens or immigrants?

They ain’t fill they census in

In the middle of criminals

Hopin' to get a legitimate business in, no minimum wage

Now they be givin' them minimum sentences

If they gonna live in a cage

Well then they family gonna live better, shit

Now my incentive is to keep my people wealthy

Eatin', organic, I keep my people healthy

Leaky, Titanic, them freaky women love me

Young Hispanics in galleries up in Chelsea

Ah, what the fuck you mean I ain’t nice?

I’m lightning and strikin' twice, excitin' as any vice

I got you beggin' me for your life

Until your knees lookin' like the fuckin' Passion of the Christ

Where they be doublin' bags half price

Keepin' an eye out for the vice or when the D’s pass by

Life a crap shoot, we rollin' them stacked dice

For bills that are past due, hoes that are stacked nice

‘Cause we advocates for savage shit, Impalas always passin' it

Piojos always staggerin' ‘cause you could get a bag for ten

The high is now even if tomorrow cancerous

Don’t worry about the future when all that’s holdin' is jowl or death

We holdin' shallow breath, all of my people are lookin' at whips

And chains like if that’s success but they can’t pass the test

She 16 and showin' ass and breasts ‘cause mama said fuck a bachelor degree

Go get a bachelorette and start a family, don’t start a career, yeah

That’s the mentality for daughters up here yeah

The latest block gossip, man, that’s all that you hear

Like, «Yo, who fuckin' who?!»

and «Who about to get cheers?»

It’s all addictions and convictions and ritual superstitions

Botanicas on the corner with rosaries in the windows

Pastors don’t give a shit about Jesus’s crucifixion

‘Cause they be gettin' they money from skimmin' out the collections

Sinners with imperfections, agendas and hid intentions

Bitches is whipping Benzes, we Section 8 on they rented

Kids that ain’t know they father, the odds have been stacked against us

That’s just the way that we living on 167th