Wom Say Now Bumbaclot?

Some man lean back, some man rally fi di spot But mi a yard bwoy, real ting, nuh chat back Whole heap a mouth, but di courage dem lack Run up if yuh bad, bumbaclot, get clapped! Where dem deh when the lake breeze cold? When we flip dem packs in the Chi-town snow? Yard bwoy touch, mek the gun smoke roll And mi jeans dem stiff from di .44 pole Mi bun herb inna lowrise flat Split get light when mi crawl through trap South Side dark like midnight black But mi come from place where di chop never slack Me nah chat long, mi done the talk Chi bwoy spin, yard bwoy spark If a war dem want, mek we march Ganja fi bun like rim in park Mi nuh fraid a no man bloodclaat From Kingston street to K-Town blocks Man roll deep wid a spliff and Glock And mi locks still smell like Bogle spot Some man lean back, some a rally up fast We a yardman youth, and we nuh tek no chat Some lean back, some a post up slack But mi trod through Chi wid a weedman pack Dem chat big and cyaan defend dat If a Cook County yuh love, mi send yuh go back Chat big but a real ting lack Mi say bumbaclot if yuh soft like snack Where dem deh when di West run red? When shot lick storefront, youth drop dead? When di herb man hide it under him bed ‘Fore pig come sniff and mash up him head Mi bun mi draw inna Garfield Park Buss two joke while mi link wid Shark Cah we cyan’t trust cop, cyan’t trust narcs Only ting mi trust is mi light an’ spark Ghetto got code like Kingston lane If yuh loose lip, yuh bring whole strain Nuh talk ‘pon phone, dat ting insane Feds move fast but mi brain move plain From Chi to Jamrock, real link up Mi roll one raw an’ mi bun it up Cah Babylon hate when we level up But mi laugh in court when di case get cut Some lean back, some a rally pon block We a rudebwoy yute, and we buss di Glock Some lean back, but mi nah stop Yard to Chi, mi nuh tek no backchat Some a frier, some a lion Some a sell out quick, like Zion Mi a bun up weed from Zion Mix Jamaican fire wid a Midwest iron Talk bad ‘til dem face get box Gun inna coat like gift wrap pack Police spin corner, we drop flat But mi rise again wid di herb intact Cah we grow up hard, widout no cash Smoke up grade while dem puff up trash Gyal whine fast inna bashment splash And mi still got packs inna Nike stash Chi ghetto rude like gullyside Man buss shot if yuh trouble pride Yard bwoy light up di buggy ride Mi laugh when Babylon a slide Dem cyaan hold mi, cyaan box in Mi live free like mi born in spring Ganja king inna rooftop swing Mi chat real ting, nuh puppet string Where dem deh when the South run wild? When the herb get flip like a badman file? Where dem deh when the youth get trial? Mi bun dis weed fi di pain and denial Some lean back, some rally pon beat Mi nah play clown inna Babylon seat Chi-town rudebwoy, Kingston heat Yard to the Chi, we run street Mi sip Roots tonic when mi plan mi route Dem talk tough, but dem cyah walk truth Mi build dis life like a zinc-top roof Wid a screwface gal and a spliff fi soothe Mi know ‘bout hunger, mi know ‘bout fiend Used to wrap loud inna church boy jeans Still touch road when the siren scream Cah mi soul too dark fi di TV screen Mi vex when mi hear dem chat Like man cyaan buss from a tenement flat Mi write real pain inna beats and claps Dem style all plastic, mi style go slap Dem nuh know ’bout the breeze pon Kedzie Where the shot fly hot and the street get deadly Mi jump fence when mi see pig ready Still light up ting inna Civic steady Yard bwoy born fi the brawl and fuss Man get drop fi a chain or a bus From South Loop market to the old school crust Mi still beat riddim when the world lose trust She say, “Bwoy, how you move so blessed?” Mi say, “Pain teach man how fi flex” Mi nuh rich but mi soul no stress Cah real ones know how fi clean up mess Some man lean back, some a rally up fast We a yardman youth, and we nuh tek no chat Some lean back, some a post up slack But mi trod through Chi wid a weedman pack Dem chat big and cyaan defend dat If a Cook County yuh love, mi send yuh go back Chat big but a real ting lack Mi say bumbaclot if yuh soft like snack Police flashlight ‘pon mi porch like war Mi grip chalice hard, start talk to Jah Say one day mi gone from di siren law But tonight mi a ghost through the Southside draw Man seh freedom but dem lock we still Dem build new jails like dem print fi kill But mi rhyme like bolt and mi climb dat hill From jam dung street to di Chi-town chill Mi nah stop ‘til mi bloodline eat Mi nah beg friend from a wolf in sheep Mi move through city like sound pon beat And mi last verse hot like July concrete