On My Way To Harlem Lyrics - It Takes A Thief - Coolio

I know a place where the trees don't grow 

Just another place where niggaz live low 

I know a place where life is fucked up 

Make a wrong move and your ass get stuck up 

Time ain't nothin' but a frame of mind 

And life is like a mountain or a steep ass climb 

I've been lookin' for a place to leave 

The only free place is inside of me 

So let's take a trip, and you don't need a grip 

But you better be equipped 'cause it might be some shit 

African-American, nothin' but a nigga 

Had our fingers on the trigger, but I pulled mine quicker 

I know a place where there ain't no calm and 

You better stay away if you're soft like Charmin' 

South Central, Los Angeles, Watts, and Compton 

A nigga on the west coast on his way to Harlem 

Now it's time to step into the light 

Put up your dukes, there's gonna be a fight 

And when it's time to fight, you better fight right 

'Cause if it don't fight right, out goes the light 

Take a close look at what I'm freakin' on 

Niggaz think I'm tweekin', but I'm speakin' on 

Subject matter, data 

Information that I gather through my travels 

'Cause the hardest of the hard, hit hardcore killer 

Can't stop the slug of a nine millimeter 

Everybody thinks they know, but they know not 

If they haven't caught a cap on the block 

So shine up your boots and pick up the pieces 

Grab a fresh pair of khakis with the sharp ass creases 

Ring the alarm, here comes the storm 

I got a firearm on my way to Harlem 

I know a place where the sun don't shine 

Everybody is a victim of neighborhood crime 

I know a place where niggaz walk the line 

One false step and they must do time 

Since I'm in the same boat I must stay afloat 

And sing every note from the quotes that they wrote 

So, I look into the past and walk the path of the greats 

So I wont make the same mistakes that sealed my ancestors fates 

If I had to be a slave I'd rather be in my grave 

If I get in how many lives could I save? 

One, two, three, a hundred, a thousand 

My heart is poundin', the devil keeps soundin' 

But he don't want my money, he wants my soul 

So I reach like a tree, and like a weed I grow 

My stomach is full, but my mind is starvin' 

Rollin' in a G ride on my way to Harlem