Clockers

1

There is a place

That is so hard to find

Behind the walls

We build inside our minds

Some break the walls

Some break the rules

Some even

get things changed

And when they do

that leads to the truth

Yet questions still remain

But all that it's saying

Somewhere in life

there's a joy to be

Between the hope

and reality

There in a mirror

and then the street

That's where you'll find

People in search of a life

And what of love

Is that a point of view?

And when you're alone

It can seem so confused

That's when a friend

can pull you in

Lend you a helping hand

But what happens when

your only friend

Sells you out in the end

How do you face it?

Somewhere in life

there's a joy to be

Between the hope and reality

There in a mirror

and then the street

That's where you'll find

People in search of a life

In search of a life

Whoa-oh-oh-oh

Searchin '

Lookin' in a bottle

Lookin' in a needle

Lookin' in the street

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Searchin '

Everywhere

Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh

Oh-oh-oh

Straight from Brooklyn,

better known as Crooklyn

Never take us short

cos Brooklyn's the borough

Straight from Brooklyn,

better known as Crooklyn

Never take us short

cos Brooklyn's the borough

We did it like that

and now we do it like this

We did it like that

and now we do it like this

Yeah

Now the clock hits

Who got the cocaine?

Don't tell me it's the

little kids on Soul Train

The metaphor sent

from my brain to my jaw

It comes from other places,

not the typical places

Journalistic values are yellow

and then the court falters

You watch Channel Zero

and that b*tch Barbara Walters

She'll have you believe

black invented crack

When President Lyndon had to form a

law way back in '63 with Kennedy

Yes, the double-cross

Remember that's when they

blew his f***ing head off

Vietnam vets come back

lookin' like one-armed pets

Mixin' thoughts, purer text

No picket fence,

no job, no ATM in the car

Blue collar

comes to bourgeois

Depressed in your chest...

Chuck D is the bomb, boy.

What?

Get the f*** outta here.

Chuck D ain't sh*t.

That n*gger Chuck D is assed out,

and the rest of Public Enemy.

That what I'm sayin'.

Speech, motherf***er.

What about him?

Speech? He

a b*tch-ass n*gger.

How the f*** this thing gonna

say Chuck D the hardest rapper?

N*gger ain't

never shot nobody.

You gotta be

hard nowadays!

First of all, I know

n*ggers ain't slappin'

b*tches up.

They ain't takin' p*ssy.

N*ggers ain't shootin' sh*t up,

ain't done time for murder.

How the f*** they hard?

Do what you gonna do. I ain't

buyin' sh*t that ain't hard-core.

You ain't gotta shoot nobody

to prove you're hard-core.

Hold on.

Only n*ggers

I have representin'

is my man Tupac,

G Rap and Wu-Tang.

Motherfuckin' Dr. Dre,

straight up.

You said it.

No f***in' around.

N*ggers talkin' all

this positive sh*t.

Motherfuckin'

world ain't positive.

That's why motherfuckin' sex and

violence sell more records.

All I'm saying is I like

positive rappers, get it?

Get the f*** outta here.

Them n*ggers

ain't homeboys.

Put them poor-ass

n*ggers over there.

Come on, yo, yo.

Forget that sh*t, man.

We gots to be

about business.

You ain't supposed

to be over here.

Get your ass over there! You

supposed to be on the lookout.

This

ain't no joke.

It's hot outside, man.

We gots

to get that money.

I understand that,

but it's hot.

Psst!

What's up, man?

What's up, man?

How ya doin'?

What you need?

What you got today?

I got red caps. They're phat.

Two for one, man.

Lemme take two.

Two? All right, hang tight.

Everything

all right, man?

Yeah.

Sh*t.

You know that, man.

Children of the ghetto

Runnin' wild and free

In a concrete jungle

Filled with misery

There's no inspiration...

What's up, man?

You got the money?

Keep an eye out,

all right?

Raise up!

Motherf***er!

Come here!

Get off me, man!

Get off me!

Hey, Strike, where's the f***in' dope?

Stand the f*** up.

Where the vials at, man?

I know you're carrying.

Collars for dollars. What the f*** is this?

The local church?

Yes. Ah, gotcha!

What you doin'? I got nothin'!

Why you checking me for?

Get the f*** off my ass! I don't play

that maricon sh*t, all right, man.

I love the smell

of surprise...

Smell your

f***in' breath.

It smells like victory,

brother! Victory!

Always in the news

Toughness is their motto

And bitter

are their blues...

Open your f***in' mouth.

Lift up your f***in' tongue.

Lemme see under

your tongue. Open.

Take off your f***ing

pants, or whatever

you f***ing call 'em.

Dicky check time.

Spread your butt cheeks, man.

Spread 'em. Let's go.

Let's see under your balls.

You know I hate doin' this.

Lemme see under

your ball bag.

Strike's balls.

Strikes and balls.

Three-two, full count.

Basesloaded with bacon strips.

Pull up your pants, b*tch.

Man, where's your

personal hygiene?

You're a motherfucking liar. I change

my drawers every day. I stays clean!

Let's get the f***

outta here. It's over!

See you later, bro.

F*** you, too, man.

F*** whoever you...

Some n*ggers

had you assed out.

Glad to

be of service, fellas!

Somebody gonna drop a

cylinder block on your ass!

Take that f***ing

gun and badge...

Ain't got the stomach

for this sh*t no more, man.

You see my doctor yet?

Huh? You go see my doctor

like I told you?

That Moo sh*t is what's killin' you.

Get rid of that sh*t.

Here. Drink that.

Not the whole thing.

Yo, Rodney. Can't

take it much longer, man.

I'm tellin' you.

Maybe you won't have

to take it much longer.

You know who

you're looking at?

That's Darryl.

That's Darryl Adams, the thief.

That's who that is.

He's stealin' from me.

Layin' back in the cut, passin' some

baggies and rakin' in the dough.

Nice indoors work,

huh, Darryl? Clean, safe.

You got this clown sellin' ounces?

Why him? What's up with me?

'Cause you like my son, man.

Strike, my son.

If I'm so much

your son, then why

my black ass always

up on them benches?

I need you to be

where I need you to be.

Had this dream last night.

I'm standin' in the desert

with all my kids.

My for-real kids,

my kids from the store.

They's all laid

out in front of me,

like they's my

army or something.

God comes up, points at you.

Tells me,

"This one right here is

gonna be your sword

and your staff."

God, man. God said that.

He pointed right at you.

Darryl Adams wasn't even

in the motherfuckin' dream,

'cause that boy's a thief,

and he got to be got.

Got?

Got. Hmm.

Can't you get

Errol for that sh*t?

You know Errol gave

hisself the big

The virus.

My man messed around

and took that "A" train.

Anyway, can you see Errol

in there sellin'

whale on a bun and

ounces and fries?

No.

Strike, you really

wanna get off the benches?

You deal with it, for me.

The illa killa

The one for the thriller

The one from the hood

actin' like a gorilla

I need the illa killa

The one for the thriller

The one from the hood

actin' like a gorilla...

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