WINNIE THE POOH Lyrics

Dangerous outside

Englewood courts on the Southside

Cold winters, pile up the blankets

Powdered sugar fingers, power rangers

Acne ridden teen with a hoop dream

Acting up in class, got a few D's

Before the injuries to his two knees

Before the Bulls team, there was bull crap

His big bro cutting up crack in the kitchen

Drunk as a skunk talking smack but he listens

First compliment he ever handed lil bro

He said Pooh quit playin' you got a chance to go pro

Wishing on a star, just a boy from Chicago

Shielded from the broads and the cruel gangs

Shielded from the sponsors

Shielded from the con men

Shoe deals, palm trees and new fame

Baby do you speak with Hov

Not with Jay, but He that rose

Tongue confession, knees that fold

For the homie that keeps the pole

Tuck the Nina, I don't mean Simone

Refuse to grow like Peter Pan

The raven eye will reap and sow

They're hand in hand like Gina, Pam

Most black boys can't shine like this

Most become what their climate is

Unfortunate stories that end the same

The Benji book the crime and sin

The reaper beneath where the city sits

Where you starve yourself or serve pies

Where the bullet with your name rarely misses

Playing dead to survive

180th street to 66th

A sacrifice for Pooh to thrive

From Murray Park to Simeon

From Simeon to Memphis ties

Tennessee hoops or Hennessy loops

The disciplines that you decide

Ball on hip since yay high

First round, first pick, praise Yah

Cause most black boys can't shine like this

Most black boys can't shine like this

Baby do you speak with Hov

Not with Jay, but He that rose

Tongue confession, knees that fold

For the homie that keeps the pole

Baby do you speak with Hov

Baby do you speak with Hov

I said most black boys can't shine like this

Most black boys don't get to shine like this

Most black boys can't shine like this

Cause most black boys don't make it past the fence

To the hood babies, hood boys, hood sons

Shoot jumpers not guns, baby

To the hood babies, hood boys, hood sons

Shoot jumpers not guns, baby

To the hood babies, hood boys, hood sons

Shoot jumpers not guns, baby

To the hood babies, hood boys, hood sons

Shoot jumpers not guns, baby

Baby do you speak with Hov

Not with Jay, but He that rose

Tongue confession, knees that fold

For the homie that keeps the pole

Baby do you speak with Hov

Baby do you speak with Hov

Not with Jay, but He that rose

Baby do you speak with Hov