A lot of you lil new new niggas not gonna understand what’s happening here.
This bring me back to 94.
Incense for lunch.
Backpack with the spray paint canister and the mask.
Air Force 1 with the Jewel swoosh.
Lo Rugby XL down to the thigh bone.
Acura Integra Life.
Very few of you cats know about this.
Some of you cats was in pampers or still a nut in your dad’s teste.
But nah, while yall were shitting your pants and snacking on Infamil we was hanging upside down out of windows doing our tags right side up on buildings.
That was back when you could stroll into a Foot Locker three days after the Jordans came out and cop them joints hella easily, no lining up or nothing, no Hype Beast shit, and then you wear them shits till the air bag pop.
“Play fake rappers like a campus Integra / Son your too eager / You ain havin it? / Good. Me neither…let’s…get together and have the whole world believe us HA / at my arraignment screamin / all us blacks got is sports and entertainment, until we leavin / even / long as I’m breathin / can’t knock the way a nigga eatin / FUCK U EVEN.”