[Chris] Curtains close on a chapter before we know it. Set the stage for that next shit let's go... What you on jo, What you on? I'm under the act of that next shit for the moment. Ask forgiveness, not permission, jo we goin. Live out this chapter. The next ones atonement. Holdin on to my integrity while getting on. Shit. Dog eat dog world. Where the fuck you think I'm from, bitch? I am not a martian, Chicago is where my home is. Lords on the 7 over east I aint mess with. Terrortown stones shot folks on Essex. Warring on the 9. I'm livin on 82nd. My block was quieter than most. What a blessing. 83rd to the 9, Yates back to Jeffery. I'm in the middle of it really you shouldn't expect shit. In this world not of it though. Now that's perspective.
[Dave] I ain’t worried ‘bout dying, all dogs go to heaven. Last night I had a dream, shots hit me on the 7. Found the shooter on the 9 with that AK47, then them looters started riots. Made the news by 11. Set the city on fire, one way or the next homie. I’m sick and tired of getting skinny while they slept on me. Them dick riders disappear when it falls down. They say the prophet is a martyr in his hometown. The profit margins we pocket from shows getting slimmer, while promoters profit from pimping and we the hoes now. They pardoning politicians to give ‘em shows now. Olympics pass on the city, cant fix them roads now. The Bulls winning, but these niggas still bullshitting, kids killing kids over J’s and a Bulls fitted. Still gave them kids like 26 years over Derrion killing but my heart still here.
[GLC] I correspond this ism is of a don. This pimping magic I’m only missing the wand. The cheerleaders, I see ‘em twirling batons, when they see me running game they aim to cheer me on. Cuz I’m b-b-b-b-bad, bad to the bone and they n-n-never had real pimp before. I control they mind, I embrace they soul. Its a cold world, but it aint that cold. True hustler, cruise like blues brothers. Not guilty of what they accuse us of. Wake up everyday, new struggles. Tryna avoid the old and new troubles. Gas high as hell, the caddy take premium. Hoes tryna hit me on bbm [church!] Manifest, they asking me to sleep with them. [ism!] After I smash, I’m back out on the streets again. [cathedral!]
credits
from Avenue: A,
released September 6, 2011
(C. Butler, D. Giles, L. Harris), produced by Hayling, bass by Tyrone Jackson, arranged by The Paxtons, recorded at Studio 284 in Brooklyn NY by Chris of The Paxtons, mixed by Ben Lindell at Lindell Productions in New York NY, GLC appears courtesy of EMI.
In an industry where perception routinely trumps reality, it’s easy to confuse instantaneous buzz with enduring success.
Deriving their name from the block on the south side of Chicago where they were born and raised, The Paxtons strive to create timeless, genre-bending music that innovates without regard to the latest trends....more
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