paroles de chanson Portrait of the Artist as a Hood (A.K.A. 3rd Bass Theme) (LP version) - 3rd Bass
Today
I'm
prepared
to
bring
specific
charges
Against
certain
members
working
in
an
industry
That
reaches
into
every
household
in
the
country
3rd
Bass
3rd
Bass
3rd
Bass
3rd
Bass
Hoods
is
up
so
skills
is
up
It's
a
stick-up,
so
why'd
you
interrupt?
So
such
bust
material
cerebral
I'm
eatin'
cereal
with
spoons
sippin'
cepacol
Daddy-O
slipped
me
some
'cause
my
breath
stank
White
gold,
but
no
accounts
in
Swiss
Banks
Think
tanks
once
rolled
on
the
city
streets
I
used
to
meet
your
moms
between
the
sheets
Universe
is
versus
hoods
prospectus
True
flam,
flammin'
words
on
wax
discus
So
they
dismiss
this
as
vulgarity
And
once
laughed
and
pointed
at
the
university
Some
perk
without
skills
and
push
a
pen
I
send
surreal
scenes
where
you
never
been
Looked
out,
gave
you
three
strikes,
you
struck
out
Pop
shit
with
the
3rd,
knock
your
fronts
out
Blew
your
blunts
out
you
wings
stuck
up
your
ass
Gassed
you
up
then
slap
you
with
my
staff
I
seen
your
skins
like
to
go
to
the
motels
But
your
ass
won't
know
to
the
hotels
'Cause
a
lip
is
zipped,
I
paint
pictures
A
portrait,
a
self
far
from
[Incomprehensible]
My
discussion
of
impression
ain't
ignorance
So
don't
label
the
hoods
on
appearances
You
never
thought
that
a
gangsta
could
talk
sense
But
this
artifice
flipped,
your
beans
is
spent
Took
your
papes
out
your
pocket
and
just
stood
out
The
focus,
the
portrait
of
the
artist
as
a
hoods-up
3rd
Bass
3rd
Bass
3rd
Bass
3rd
Bass
Portrait
planned
it
back
in
the
days
Young
strays,
posted
at
the
L.Q.
on
Friday's
Waitin'
for
dice
to
give
the
go
ahead
Hawkin'
50
Cent,
puttin'
heads
to
bed
For
a
herringbone
hear
the
tune
of
the
audio
two
Milk
was
chillin'
as
I
chilled
in
the
back
room
Listen
to
snaps,
cuts
by
scoob
and
scrap
Union
square,
to
tear
up
the
KRS
tracks
Torn
up
by
the
Kent,
the
Clark
dark
As
the
brothers
try
to
spark
We
knocked
boots
and
the
boots
got
knocked
Three
a.m.
and
it
was
off
to
the
rooftop
Hip-Hop
star
ski,
the
masters
of
ceremony
Ka-ka-cracked
out,
was
hookin'
property
Five
a.m.
it
was
the
S
and
S
A
hundred
and
forty-fifth
street,
down
on
Lennox
Star
child
made
all
the
hoes
squeal
For
a
dollar
crack
heads
armor-alled
your
wheels
Whippin'
home
in
the
sunshine,
fun
time
But
now
you
can't
find
Clubs
like
this
that
kept
the
music
in
the
street
And
pop
rap
couldn't
get
a
dime
to
eat
Yo,
they're
makin'
mills
but
what
about
the
hood?
A
parking
lot
where
the
Latin
quarter
stood
A
landmark
marked
in
the
cranium
But
now
I
bring
it
back
in
front
of
packed
stadiums
Picture
painted
with
the
goals
and
the
good
The
portrait
of
an
artist
as
a
hood
3rd
Bass
3rd
Bass
3rd
Bass
3rd
Bass
3rd
Bass
3rd
Bass
Yo
Pete
man,
yo
where
the
hoods
at
Pete?
Yo
the
hoods
is
in
Brooklyn,
Queens,
Bronx
Money-makin'
strong
island
Yo
can't
forget
Newark
New
Jersey
Philly,
D.C
From
Detroit
to
mobile
Alabama
Memphis
Tennesse
Cleveland
Yo,
money-makin'
Miami,
Chicago
East
St.
Louis
got
crazy
hoods
Oakland
Compton
watts
wearin'
the
hoods
Yo
true
indeed,
Louisville
Boostin'
Houston
got
crazy
hoods
New
Orleans,
Seattle
North
Carolina
cannot
forget
about
Atlanta
Shock
master
[Incomprehensible]
got
crazy
hoods
Listenin'
to
his
program
And
the
hoods
are
holdin'
their
joint
and
they're
out
True
indeed,
see-ya
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