[{"id":7580378,"name":"The Neighborhood","trackName":"The Neighborhood","artistName":"Common","albumName":"Nobody’s Smiling","duration":239.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe were trading our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice\nHeaded back to the light\nBut be careful don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows but it's cold\n\nI'm from the other side of town\nOut of bounds\nTo anybody who don't live around\nI never learned to share or how to care\nI never had no teachings about being fair\n\nHave you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\nAnd Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThey gave violations, hood public relations\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\nThey the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\nCrack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\nForties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\nWhen they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know they don't see sometimes\nThat in the neighborhood\nIt's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again\nFeel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\nFolly boy, O block, eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\nI've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\nWhere I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\nSame niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\nBetter watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\nHomie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\nYou ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nComing inbound\nForty six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\nLake Shore Drive's heavy south\nNorth Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\nTri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.68] Thousand lives ago\n[00:03.54] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.99] We were trading our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.83] Made the sacrifice\n[00:13.78] Headed back to the light\n[00:16.21] But be careful don't drown in the gold\n[00:21.56] I know it glows but it's cold\n[00:27.15] I'm from the other side of town\n[00:35.96] Out of bounds\n[00:38.72] To anybody who don't live around\n[00:44.45] I never learned to share or how to care\n[00:52.53] I never had no teachings about being fair\n[01:00.92] Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n[01:03.04] And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n[01:05.20] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:08.20] They gave violations, hood public relations\n[01:11.82] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:14.82] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:17.93] The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n[01:21.00] They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:24.18] The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n[01:26.37] Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.25] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.10] A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n[01:35.13] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:37.94] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:40.86] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:42.89] Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n[01:45.88] Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:48.80] When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n[01:52.39] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.26] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.54] You know they don't see sometimes\n[02:00.39] That in the neighborhood\n[02:02.19] It's the exact same thing\n[02:04.93] It's the same thing over and over again\n[02:07.60] Feel me?\n[02:12.86] Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n[02:15.50] Folly boy, O block, eastside\n[02:17.47] Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.79] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.75] Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n[02:26.60] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.31] I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.19] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.21] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.23] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n[02:41.40] But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n[02:44.13] Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n[02:47.25] Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.90] No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n[02:53.52] Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n[02:56.52] Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n[02:59.45] Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n[03:02.22] I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n[03:04.96] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n[03:07.80] You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:40.39] Coming inbound\n[03:41.85] Forty six minutes from 355\n[03:43.28] Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n[03:45.29] Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n[03:47.45] North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.74] Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n[03:52.44] Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood\n artist: Common\n album: Nobody’s Smiling\n duration_ms: 239000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 1680\n end_ms: 3540\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 3540\n end_ms: 5990\n- text: We were trading our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5990\n end_ms: 11830\n- text: Made the sacrifice\n start_ms: 11830\n end_ms: 13780\n- text: Headed back to the light\n start_ms: 13780\n end_ms: 16210\n- text: But be careful don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16210\n end_ms: 21560\n- text: I know it glows but it's cold\n start_ms: 21560\n end_ms: 27150\n- text: I'm from the other side of town\n start_ms: 27150\n end_ms: 35960\n- text: Out of bounds\n start_ms: 35960\n end_ms: 38720\n- text: To anybody who don't live around\n start_ms: 38720\n end_ms: 44450\n- text: I never learned to share or how to care\n start_ms: 44450\n end_ms: 52530\n- text: I never had no teachings about being fair\n start_ms: 52530\n end_ms: 60920\n- text: Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n start_ms: 60920\n end_ms: 63040\n- text: And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n start_ms: 63040\n end_ms: 65200\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 65200\n end_ms: 68200\n- text: They gave violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 68200\n end_ms: 71820\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 71820\n end_ms: 74820\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 74820\n end_ms: 77930\n- text: The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n start_ms: 77930\n end_ms: 81000\n- text: They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81000\n end_ms: 84180\n- text: The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n start_ms: 84180\n end_ms: 86370\n- text: Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86370\n end_ms: 89250\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89250\n end_ms: 92100\n- text: A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n start_ms: 92100\n end_ms: 95130\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95130\n end_ms: 97940\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 97940\n end_ms: 100860\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 100860\n end_ms: 102890\n- text: Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 102890\n end_ms: 105880\n- text: Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 105880\n end_ms: 108800\n- text: When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 108800\n end_ms: 112390\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 112390\n end_ms: 115260\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115260\n end_ms: 118540\n- text: You know they don't see sometimes\n start_ms: 118540\n end_ms: 120390\n- text: That in the neighborhood\n start_ms: 120390\n end_ms: 122190\n- text: It's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 122190\n end_ms: 124930\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again\n start_ms: 124930\n end_ms: 127600\n- text: Feel me?\n start_ms: 127600\n end_ms: 132860\n- text: Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n start_ms: 132860\n end_ms: 135500\n- text: Folly boy, O block, eastside\n start_ms: 135500\n end_ms: 137470\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 137470\n end_ms: 140790\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140790\n end_ms: 143750\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n start_ms: 143750\n end_ms: 146600\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146600\n end_ms: 149310\n- text: I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149310\n end_ms: 152190\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152190\n end_ms: 155210\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155210\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161400\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161400\n end_ms: 164130\n- text: Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n start_ms: 164130\n end_ms: 167250\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167250\n end_ms: 169900\n- text: No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n start_ms: 169900\n end_ms: 173520\n- text: Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n start_ms: 173520\n end_ms: 176520\n- text: Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n start_ms: 176520\n end_ms: 179450\n- text: Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 179450\n end_ms: 182220\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n start_ms: 182220\n end_ms: 184960\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n start_ms: 184960\n end_ms: 187800\n- text: You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187800\n end_ms: 220390\n- text: Coming inbound\n start_ms: 220390\n end_ms: 221850\n- text: Forty six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 221850\n end_ms: 223280\n- text: Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n start_ms: 223280\n end_ms: 225290\n- text: Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n start_ms: 225290\n end_ms: 227450\n- text: North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227450\n end_ms: 228740\n- text: Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n start_ms: 228740\n end_ms: 232440\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 232440\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We were trading our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice\n Headed back to the light\n But be careful don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows but it's cold\n\n I'm from the other side of town\n Out of bounds\n To anybody who don't live around\n I never learned to share or how to care\n I never had no teachings about being fair\n\n Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n They gave violations, hood public relations\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know they don't see sometimes\n That in the neighborhood\n It's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again\n Feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n Folly boy, O block, eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Coming inbound\n Forty six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n"},{"id":16040168,"name":"The Neighborhood","trackName":"The Neighborhood","artistName":"Common","albumName":"Nobody's Smiling (Deluxe)","duration":238.39665,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe were trading our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice\nHeaded back to the light\nBut be careful don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows but it's cold\n\nI'm from the other side of town\nOut of bounds\nTo anybody who don't live around\nI never learned to share or how to care\nI never had no teachings about being fair\n\nHave you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\nAnd Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThey gave violations, hood public relations\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\nThey the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\nCrack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\nForties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\nWhen they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know they don't see sometimes\nThat in the neighborhood\nIt's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again\nFeel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\nFolly boy, O block, eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\nI've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\nWhere I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\nSame niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\nBetter watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\nHomie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\nYou ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nComing inbound\nForty six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\nLake Shore Drive's heavy south\nNorth Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\nTri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.68] Thousand lives ago\n[00:03.54] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.99] We were trading our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.83] Made the sacrifice\n[00:13.78] Headed back to the light\n[00:16.21] But be careful don't drown in the gold\n[00:21.56] I know it glows but it's cold\n[00:27.15] I'm from the other side of town\n[00:35.96] Out of bounds\n[00:38.72] To anybody who don't live around\n[00:44.45] I never learned to share or how to care\n[00:52.53] I never had no teachings about being fair\n[01:00.92] Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n[01:03.04] And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n[01:05.20] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:08.20] They gave violations, hood public relations\n[01:11.82] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:14.82] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:17.93] The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n[01:21.00] They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:24.18] The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n[01:26.37] Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.25] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.10] A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n[01:35.13] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:37.94] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:40.86] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:42.89] Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n[01:45.88] Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:48.80] When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n[01:52.39] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.26] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.54] You know they don't see sometimes\n[02:00.39] That in the neighborhood\n[02:02.19] It's the exact same thing\n[02:04.93] It's the same thing over and over again\n[02:07.60] Feel me?\n[02:12.86] Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n[02:15.50] Folly boy, O block, eastside\n[02:17.47] Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.79] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.75] Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n[02:26.60] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.31] I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.19] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.21] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.23] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n[02:41.40] But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n[02:44.13] Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n[02:47.25] Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.90] No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n[02:53.52] Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n[02:56.52] Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n[02:59.45] Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n[03:02.22] I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n[03:04.96] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n[03:07.80] You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:40.39] Coming inbound\n[03:41.85] Forty six minutes from 355\n[03:43.28] Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n[03:45.29] Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n[03:47.45] North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.74] Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n[03:52.44] Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood\n artist: Common\n album: Nobody's Smiling (Deluxe)\n duration_ms: 238397\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 1680\n end_ms: 3540\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 3540\n end_ms: 5990\n- text: We were trading our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5990\n end_ms: 11830\n- text: Made the sacrifice\n start_ms: 11830\n end_ms: 13780\n- text: Headed back to the light\n start_ms: 13780\n end_ms: 16210\n- text: But be careful don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16210\n end_ms: 21560\n- text: I know it glows but it's cold\n start_ms: 21560\n end_ms: 27150\n- text: I'm from the other side of town\n start_ms: 27150\n end_ms: 35960\n- text: Out of bounds\n start_ms: 35960\n end_ms: 38720\n- text: To anybody who don't live around\n start_ms: 38720\n end_ms: 44450\n- text: I never learned to share or how to care\n start_ms: 44450\n end_ms: 52530\n- text: I never had no teachings about being fair\n start_ms: 52530\n end_ms: 60920\n- text: Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n start_ms: 60920\n end_ms: 63040\n- text: And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n start_ms: 63040\n end_ms: 65200\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 65200\n end_ms: 68200\n- text: They gave violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 68200\n end_ms: 71820\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 71820\n end_ms: 74820\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 74820\n end_ms: 77930\n- text: The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n start_ms: 77930\n end_ms: 81000\n- text: They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81000\n end_ms: 84180\n- text: The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n start_ms: 84180\n end_ms: 86370\n- text: Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86370\n end_ms: 89250\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89250\n end_ms: 92100\n- text: A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n start_ms: 92100\n end_ms: 95130\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95130\n end_ms: 97940\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 97940\n end_ms: 100860\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 100860\n end_ms: 102890\n- text: Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 102890\n end_ms: 105880\n- text: Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 105880\n end_ms: 108800\n- text: When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 108800\n end_ms: 112390\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 112390\n end_ms: 115260\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115260\n end_ms: 118540\n- text: You know they don't see sometimes\n start_ms: 118540\n end_ms: 120390\n- text: That in the neighborhood\n start_ms: 120390\n end_ms: 122190\n- text: It's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 122190\n end_ms: 124930\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again\n start_ms: 124930\n end_ms: 127600\n- text: Feel me?\n start_ms: 127600\n end_ms: 132860\n- text: Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n start_ms: 132860\n end_ms: 135500\n- text: Folly boy, O block, eastside\n start_ms: 135500\n end_ms: 137470\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 137470\n end_ms: 140790\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140790\n end_ms: 143750\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n start_ms: 143750\n end_ms: 146600\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146600\n end_ms: 149310\n- text: I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149310\n end_ms: 152190\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152190\n end_ms: 155210\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155210\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161400\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161400\n end_ms: 164130\n- text: Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n start_ms: 164130\n end_ms: 167250\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167250\n end_ms: 169900\n- text: No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n start_ms: 169900\n end_ms: 173520\n- text: Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n start_ms: 173520\n end_ms: 176520\n- text: Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n start_ms: 176520\n end_ms: 179450\n- text: Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 179450\n end_ms: 182220\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n start_ms: 182220\n end_ms: 184960\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n start_ms: 184960\n end_ms: 187800\n- text: You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187800\n end_ms: 220390\n- text: Coming inbound\n start_ms: 220390\n end_ms: 221850\n- text: Forty six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 221850\n end_ms: 223280\n- text: Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n start_ms: 223280\n end_ms: 225290\n- text: Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n start_ms: 225290\n end_ms: 227450\n- text: North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227450\n end_ms: 228740\n- text: Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n start_ms: 228740\n end_ms: 232440\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 232440\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We were trading our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice\n Headed back to the light\n But be careful don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows but it's cold\n\n I'm from the other side of town\n Out of bounds\n To anybody who don't live around\n I never learned to share or how to care\n I never had no teachings about being fair\n\n Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n They gave violations, hood public relations\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know they don't see sometimes\n That in the neighborhood\n It's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again\n Feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n Folly boy, O block, eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Coming inbound\n Forty six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n"},{"id":31339012,"name":"The Neighborhood (Album Version (Explicit))","trackName":"The Neighborhood (Album Version (Explicit))","artistName":"Common","albumName":"Nobody's Smiling","duration":238.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe were trading our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice\nHeaded back to the light\nBut be careful don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows but it's cold\n\nI'm from the other side of town\nOut of bounds\nTo anybody who don't live around\nI never learned to share or how to care\nI never had no teachings about being fair\n\nHave you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\nAnd Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThey gave violations, hood public relations\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\nThey the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\nCrack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\nForties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\nWhen they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know they don't see sometimes\nThat in the neighborhood\nIt's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again\nFeel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\nFolly boy, O block, eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\nI've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\nWhere I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\nSame niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\nBetter watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\nHomie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\nYou ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nComing inbound\nForty six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\nLake Shore Drive's heavy south\nNorth Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\nTri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.68] Thousand lives ago\n[00:03.54] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.99] We were trading our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.83] Made the sacrifice\n[00:13.78] Headed back to the light\n[00:16.21] But be careful don't drown in the gold\n[00:21.56] I know it glows but it's cold\n[00:27.15] I'm from the other side of town\n[00:35.96] Out of bounds\n[00:38.72] To anybody who don't live around\n[00:44.45] I never learned to share or how to care\n[00:52.53] I never had no teachings about being fair\n[01:00.92] Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n[01:03.04] And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n[01:05.20] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:08.20] They gave violations, hood public relations\n[01:11.82] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:14.82] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:17.93] The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n[01:21.00] They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:24.18] The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n[01:26.37] Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.25] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.10] A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n[01:35.13] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:37.94] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:40.86] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:42.89] Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n[01:45.88] Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:48.80] When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n[01:52.39] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.26] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.54] You know they don't see sometimes\n[02:00.39] That in the neighborhood\n[02:02.19] It's the exact same thing\n[02:04.93] It's the same thing over and over again\n[02:07.60] Feel me?\n[02:12.86] Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n[02:15.50] Folly boy, O block, eastside\n[02:17.47] Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.79] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.75] Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n[02:26.60] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.31] I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.19] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.21] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.23] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n[02:41.40] But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n[02:44.13] Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n[02:47.25] Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.90] No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n[02:53.52] Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n[02:56.52] Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n[02:59.45] Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n[03:02.22] I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n[03:04.96] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n[03:07.80] You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:40.39] Coming inbound\n[03:41.85] Forty six minutes from 355\n[03:43.28] Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n[03:45.29] Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n[03:47.45] North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.74] Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n[03:52.44] Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood (Album Version (Explicit))\n artist: Common\n album: Nobody's Smiling\n duration_ms: 238000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 1680\n end_ms: 3540\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 3540\n end_ms: 5990\n- text: We were trading our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5990\n end_ms: 11830\n- text: Made the sacrifice\n start_ms: 11830\n end_ms: 13780\n- text: Headed back to the light\n start_ms: 13780\n end_ms: 16210\n- text: But be careful don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16210\n end_ms: 21560\n- text: I know it glows but it's cold\n start_ms: 21560\n end_ms: 27150\n- text: I'm from the other side of town\n start_ms: 27150\n end_ms: 35960\n- text: Out of bounds\n start_ms: 35960\n end_ms: 38720\n- text: To anybody who don't live around\n start_ms: 38720\n end_ms: 44450\n- text: I never learned to share or how to care\n start_ms: 44450\n end_ms: 52530\n- text: I never had no teachings about being fair\n start_ms: 52530\n end_ms: 60920\n- text: Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n start_ms: 60920\n end_ms: 63040\n- text: And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n start_ms: 63040\n end_ms: 65200\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 65200\n end_ms: 68200\n- text: They gave violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 68200\n end_ms: 71820\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 71820\n end_ms: 74820\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 74820\n end_ms: 77930\n- text: The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n start_ms: 77930\n end_ms: 81000\n- text: They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81000\n end_ms: 84180\n- text: The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n start_ms: 84180\n end_ms: 86370\n- text: Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86370\n end_ms: 89250\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89250\n end_ms: 92100\n- text: A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n start_ms: 92100\n end_ms: 95130\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95130\n end_ms: 97940\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 97940\n end_ms: 100860\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 100860\n end_ms: 102890\n- text: Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 102890\n end_ms: 105880\n- text: Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 105880\n end_ms: 108800\n- text: When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 108800\n end_ms: 112390\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 112390\n end_ms: 115260\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115260\n end_ms: 118540\n- text: You know they don't see sometimes\n start_ms: 118540\n end_ms: 120390\n- text: That in the neighborhood\n start_ms: 120390\n end_ms: 122190\n- text: It's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 122190\n end_ms: 124930\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again\n start_ms: 124930\n end_ms: 127600\n- text: Feel me?\n start_ms: 127600\n end_ms: 132860\n- text: Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n start_ms: 132860\n end_ms: 135500\n- text: Folly boy, O block, eastside\n start_ms: 135500\n end_ms: 137470\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 137470\n end_ms: 140790\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140790\n end_ms: 143750\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n start_ms: 143750\n end_ms: 146600\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146600\n end_ms: 149310\n- text: I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149310\n end_ms: 152190\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152190\n end_ms: 155210\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155210\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161400\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161400\n end_ms: 164130\n- text: Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n start_ms: 164130\n end_ms: 167250\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167250\n end_ms: 169900\n- text: No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n start_ms: 169900\n end_ms: 173520\n- text: Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n start_ms: 173520\n end_ms: 176520\n- text: Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n start_ms: 176520\n end_ms: 179450\n- text: Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 179450\n end_ms: 182220\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n start_ms: 182220\n end_ms: 184960\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n start_ms: 184960\n end_ms: 187800\n- text: You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187800\n end_ms: 220390\n- text: Coming inbound\n start_ms: 220390\n end_ms: 221850\n- text: Forty six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 221850\n end_ms: 223280\n- text: Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n start_ms: 223280\n end_ms: 225290\n- text: Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n start_ms: 225290\n end_ms: 227450\n- text: North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227450\n end_ms: 228740\n- text: Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n start_ms: 228740\n end_ms: 232440\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 232440\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We were trading our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice\n Headed back to the light\n But be careful don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows but it's cold\n\n I'm from the other side of town\n Out of bounds\n To anybody who don't live around\n I never learned to share or how to care\n I never had no teachings about being fair\n\n Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n They gave violations, hood public relations\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know they don't see sometimes\n That in the neighborhood\n It's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again\n Feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n Folly boy, O block, eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Coming inbound\n Forty six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n"},{"id":37066483,"name":"The Neighborhood","trackName":"The Neighborhood","artistName":"Common feat. Cocaine 80s","albumName":"Nobody's Smiling (Deluxe)","duration":239.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe were trading our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice\nHeaded back to the light\nBut be careful don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows but it's cold\n\nI'm from the other side of town\nOut of bounds\nTo anybody who don't live around\nI never learned to share or how to care\nI never had no teachings about being fair\n\nHave you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\nAnd Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThey gave violations, hood public relations\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\nThey the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\nCrack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\nForties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\nWhen they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know they don't see sometimes\nThat in the neighborhood\nIt's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again\nFeel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\nFolly boy, O block, eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\nI've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\nWhere I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\nSame niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\nBetter watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\nHomie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\nYou ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nComing inbound\nForty six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\nLake Shore Drive's heavy south\nNorth Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\nTri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.68] Thousand lives ago\n[00:03.54] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.99] We were trading our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.83] Made the sacrifice\n[00:13.78] Headed back to the light\n[00:16.21] But be careful don't drown in the gold\n[00:21.56] I know it glows but it's cold\n[00:27.15] I'm from the other side of town\n[00:35.96] Out of bounds\n[00:38.72] To anybody who don't live around\n[00:44.45] I never learned to share or how to care\n[00:52.53] I never had no teachings about being fair\n[01:00.92] Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n[01:03.04] And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n[01:05.20] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:08.20] They gave violations, hood public relations\n[01:11.82] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:14.82] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:17.93] The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n[01:21.00] They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:24.18] The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n[01:26.37] Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.25] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.10] A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n[01:35.13] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:37.94] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:40.86] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:42.89] Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n[01:45.88] Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:48.80] When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n[01:52.39] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.26] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.54] You know they don't see sometimes\n[02:00.39] That in the neighborhood\n[02:02.19] It's the exact same thing\n[02:04.93] It's the same thing over and over again\n[02:07.60] Feel me?\n[02:12.86] Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n[02:15.50] Folly boy, O block, eastside\n[02:17.47] Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.79] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.75] Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n[02:26.60] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.31] I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.19] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.21] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.23] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n[02:41.40] But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n[02:44.13] Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n[02:47.25] Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.90] No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n[02:53.52] Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n[02:56.52] Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n[02:59.45] Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n[03:02.22] I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n[03:04.96] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n[03:07.80] You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:40.39] Coming inbound\n[03:41.85] Forty six minutes from 355\n[03:43.28] Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n[03:45.29] Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n[03:47.45] North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.74] Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n[03:52.44] Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood\n artist: Common feat. Cocaine 80s\n album: Nobody's Smiling (Deluxe)\n duration_ms: 239000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 1680\n end_ms: 3540\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 3540\n end_ms: 5990\n- text: We were trading our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5990\n end_ms: 11830\n- text: Made the sacrifice\n start_ms: 11830\n end_ms: 13780\n- text: Headed back to the light\n start_ms: 13780\n end_ms: 16210\n- text: But be careful don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16210\n end_ms: 21560\n- text: I know it glows but it's cold\n start_ms: 21560\n end_ms: 27150\n- text: I'm from the other side of town\n start_ms: 27150\n end_ms: 35960\n- text: Out of bounds\n start_ms: 35960\n end_ms: 38720\n- text: To anybody who don't live around\n start_ms: 38720\n end_ms: 44450\n- text: I never learned to share or how to care\n start_ms: 44450\n end_ms: 52530\n- text: I never had no teachings about being fair\n start_ms: 52530\n end_ms: 60920\n- text: Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n start_ms: 60920\n end_ms: 63040\n- text: And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n start_ms: 63040\n end_ms: 65200\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 65200\n end_ms: 68200\n- text: They gave violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 68200\n end_ms: 71820\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 71820\n end_ms: 74820\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 74820\n end_ms: 77930\n- text: The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n start_ms: 77930\n end_ms: 81000\n- text: They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81000\n end_ms: 84180\n- text: The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n start_ms: 84180\n end_ms: 86370\n- text: Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86370\n end_ms: 89250\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89250\n end_ms: 92100\n- text: A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n start_ms: 92100\n end_ms: 95130\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95130\n end_ms: 97940\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 97940\n end_ms: 100860\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 100860\n end_ms: 102890\n- text: Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 102890\n end_ms: 105880\n- text: Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 105880\n end_ms: 108800\n- text: When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 108800\n end_ms: 112390\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 112390\n end_ms: 115260\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115260\n end_ms: 118540\n- text: You know they don't see sometimes\n start_ms: 118540\n end_ms: 120390\n- text: That in the neighborhood\n start_ms: 120390\n end_ms: 122190\n- text: It's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 122190\n end_ms: 124930\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again\n start_ms: 124930\n end_ms: 127600\n- text: Feel me?\n start_ms: 127600\n end_ms: 132860\n- text: Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n start_ms: 132860\n end_ms: 135500\n- text: Folly boy, O block, eastside\n start_ms: 135500\n end_ms: 137470\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 137470\n end_ms: 140790\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140790\n end_ms: 143750\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n start_ms: 143750\n end_ms: 146600\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146600\n end_ms: 149310\n- text: I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149310\n end_ms: 152190\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152190\n end_ms: 155210\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155210\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161400\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161400\n end_ms: 164130\n- text: Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n start_ms: 164130\n end_ms: 167250\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167250\n end_ms: 169900\n- text: No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n start_ms: 169900\n end_ms: 173520\n- text: Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n start_ms: 173520\n end_ms: 176520\n- text: Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n start_ms: 176520\n end_ms: 179450\n- text: Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 179450\n end_ms: 182220\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n start_ms: 182220\n end_ms: 184960\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n start_ms: 184960\n end_ms: 187800\n- text: You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187800\n end_ms: 220390\n- text: Coming inbound\n start_ms: 220390\n end_ms: 221850\n- text: Forty six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 221850\n end_ms: 223280\n- text: Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n start_ms: 223280\n end_ms: 225290\n- text: Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n start_ms: 225290\n end_ms: 227450\n- text: North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227450\n end_ms: 228740\n- text: Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n start_ms: 228740\n end_ms: 232440\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 232440\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We were trading our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice\n Headed back to the light\n But be careful don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows but it's cold\n\n I'm from the other side of town\n Out of bounds\n To anybody who don't live around\n I never learned to share or how to care\n I never had no teachings about being fair\n\n Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n They gave violations, hood public relations\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know they don't see sometimes\n That in the neighborhood\n It's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again\n Feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n Folly boy, O block, eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Coming inbound\n Forty six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n"},{"id":13415133,"name":"The Neighborhood","trackName":"The Neighborhood","artistName":"Common / G Herbo / Cocaine 80s","albumName":"Nobody's Smiling","duration":238.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe were trading our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice\nHeaded back to the light\nBut be careful don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows but it's cold\n\nI'm from the other side of town\nOut of bounds\nTo anybody who don't live around\nI never learned to share or how to care\nI never had no teachings about being fair\n\nHave you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\nAnd Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThey gave violations, hood public relations\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\nThey the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\nCrack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\nForties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\nWhen they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know they don't see sometimes\nThat in the neighborhood\nIt's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again\nFeel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\nFolly boy, O block, eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\nI've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\nWhere I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\nSame niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\nBetter watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\nHomie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\nYou ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nComing inbound\nForty six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\nLake Shore Drive's heavy south\nNorth Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\nTri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.68] Thousand lives ago\n[00:03.54] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.99] We were trading our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.83] Made the sacrifice\n[00:13.78] Headed back to the light\n[00:16.21] But be careful don't drown in the gold\n[00:21.56] I know it glows but it's cold\n[00:27.15] I'm from the other side of town\n[00:35.96] Out of bounds\n[00:38.72] To anybody who don't live around\n[00:44.45] I never learned to share or how to care\n[00:52.53] I never had no teachings about being fair\n[01:00.92] Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n[01:03.04] And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n[01:05.20] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:08.20] They gave violations, hood public relations\n[01:11.82] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:14.82] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:17.93] The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n[01:21.00] They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:24.18] The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n[01:26.37] Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.25] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.10] A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n[01:35.13] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:37.94] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:40.86] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:42.89] Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n[01:45.88] Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:48.80] When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n[01:52.39] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.26] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.54] You know they don't see sometimes\n[02:00.39] That in the neighborhood\n[02:02.19] It's the exact same thing\n[02:04.93] It's the same thing over and over again\n[02:07.60] Feel me?\n[02:12.86] Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n[02:15.50] Folly boy, O block, eastside\n[02:17.47] Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.79] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.75] Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n[02:26.60] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.31] I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.19] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.21] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.23] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n[02:41.40] But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n[02:44.13] Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n[02:47.25] Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.90] No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n[02:53.52] Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n[02:56.52] Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n[02:59.45] Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n[03:02.22] I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n[03:04.96] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n[03:07.80] You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:40.39] Coming inbound\n[03:41.85] Forty six minutes from 355\n[03:43.28] Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n[03:45.29] Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n[03:47.45] North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.74] Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n[03:52.44] Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood\n artist: Common / G Herbo / Cocaine 80s\n album: Nobody's Smiling\n duration_ms: 238000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 1680\n end_ms: 3540\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 3540\n end_ms: 5990\n- text: We were trading our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5990\n end_ms: 11830\n- text: Made the sacrifice\n start_ms: 11830\n end_ms: 13780\n- text: Headed back to the light\n start_ms: 13780\n end_ms: 16210\n- text: But be careful don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16210\n end_ms: 21560\n- text: I know it glows but it's cold\n start_ms: 21560\n end_ms: 27150\n- text: I'm from the other side of town\n start_ms: 27150\n end_ms: 35960\n- text: Out of bounds\n start_ms: 35960\n end_ms: 38720\n- text: To anybody who don't live around\n start_ms: 38720\n end_ms: 44450\n- text: I never learned to share or how to care\n start_ms: 44450\n end_ms: 52530\n- text: I never had no teachings about being fair\n start_ms: 52530\n end_ms: 60920\n- text: Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n start_ms: 60920\n end_ms: 63040\n- text: And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n start_ms: 63040\n end_ms: 65200\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 65200\n end_ms: 68200\n- text: They gave violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 68200\n end_ms: 71820\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 71820\n end_ms: 74820\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 74820\n end_ms: 77930\n- text: The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n start_ms: 77930\n end_ms: 81000\n- text: They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81000\n end_ms: 84180\n- text: The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n start_ms: 84180\n end_ms: 86370\n- text: Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86370\n end_ms: 89250\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89250\n end_ms: 92100\n- text: A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n start_ms: 92100\n end_ms: 95130\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95130\n end_ms: 97940\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 97940\n end_ms: 100860\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 100860\n end_ms: 102890\n- text: Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 102890\n end_ms: 105880\n- text: Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 105880\n end_ms: 108800\n- text: When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 108800\n end_ms: 112390\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 112390\n end_ms: 115260\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115260\n end_ms: 118540\n- text: You know they don't see sometimes\n start_ms: 118540\n end_ms: 120390\n- text: That in the neighborhood\n start_ms: 120390\n end_ms: 122190\n- text: It's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 122190\n end_ms: 124930\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again\n start_ms: 124930\n end_ms: 127600\n- text: Feel me?\n start_ms: 127600\n end_ms: 132860\n- text: Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n start_ms: 132860\n end_ms: 135500\n- text: Folly boy, O block, eastside\n start_ms: 135500\n end_ms: 137470\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 137470\n end_ms: 140790\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140790\n end_ms: 143750\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n start_ms: 143750\n end_ms: 146600\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146600\n end_ms: 149310\n- text: I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149310\n end_ms: 152190\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152190\n end_ms: 155210\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155210\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161400\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161400\n end_ms: 164130\n- text: Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n start_ms: 164130\n end_ms: 167250\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167250\n end_ms: 169900\n- text: No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n start_ms: 169900\n end_ms: 173520\n- text: Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n start_ms: 173520\n end_ms: 176520\n- text: Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n start_ms: 176520\n end_ms: 179450\n- text: Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 179450\n end_ms: 182220\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n start_ms: 182220\n end_ms: 184960\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n start_ms: 184960\n end_ms: 187800\n- text: You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187800\n end_ms: 220390\n- text: Coming inbound\n start_ms: 220390\n end_ms: 221850\n- text: Forty six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 221850\n end_ms: 223280\n- text: Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n start_ms: 223280\n end_ms: 225290\n- text: Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n start_ms: 225290\n end_ms: 227450\n- text: North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227450\n end_ms: 228740\n- text: Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n start_ms: 228740\n end_ms: 232440\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 232440\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We were trading our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice\n Headed back to the light\n But be careful don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows but it's cold\n\n I'm from the other side of town\n Out of bounds\n To anybody who don't live around\n I never learned to share or how to care\n I never had no teachings about being fair\n\n Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n They gave violations, hood public relations\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know they don't see sometimes\n That in the neighborhood\n It's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again\n Feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n Folly boy, O block, eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Coming inbound\n Forty six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n"},{"id":9839701,"name":"The Neighborhood feat. G Herbo & Cocaine 80s","trackName":"The Neighborhood feat. G Herbo & Cocaine 80s","artistName":"Common","albumName":"Nobody’s Smiling","duration":238.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe were trading our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice\nHeaded back to the light\nBut be careful don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows but it's cold\n\nI'm from the other side of town\nOut of bounds\nTo anybody who don't live around\nI never learned to share or how to care\nI never had no teachings about being fair\n\nHave you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\nAnd Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThey gave violations, hood public relations\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\nThey the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\nCrack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\nForties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\nWhen they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know they don't see sometimes\nThat in the neighborhood\nIt's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again\nFeel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\nFolly boy, O block, eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\nI've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\nWhere I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\nSame niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\nBetter watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\nHomie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\nYou ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nComing inbound\nForty six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\nLake Shore Drive's heavy south\nNorth Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\nTri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.68] Thousand lives ago\n[00:03.54] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.99] We were trading our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.83] Made the sacrifice\n[00:13.78] Headed back to the light\n[00:16.21] But be careful don't drown in the gold\n[00:21.56] I know it glows but it's cold\n[00:27.15] I'm from the other side of town\n[00:35.96] Out of bounds\n[00:38.72] To anybody who don't live around\n[00:44.45] I never learned to share or how to care\n[00:52.53] I never had no teachings about being fair\n[01:00.92] Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n[01:03.04] And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n[01:05.20] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:08.20] They gave violations, hood public relations\n[01:11.82] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:14.82] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:17.93] The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n[01:21.00] They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:24.18] The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n[01:26.37] Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.25] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.10] A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n[01:35.13] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:37.94] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:40.86] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:42.89] Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n[01:45.88] Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:48.80] When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n[01:52.39] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.26] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.54] You know they don't see sometimes\n[02:00.39] That in the neighborhood\n[02:02.19] It's the exact same thing\n[02:04.93] It's the same thing over and over again\n[02:07.60] Feel me?\n[02:12.86] Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n[02:15.50] Folly boy, O block, eastside\n[02:17.47] Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.79] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.75] Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n[02:26.60] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.31] I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.19] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.21] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.23] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n[02:41.40] But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n[02:44.13] Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n[02:47.25] Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.90] No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n[02:53.52] Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n[02:56.52] Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n[02:59.45] Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n[03:02.22] I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n[03:04.96] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n[03:07.80] You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:40.39] Coming inbound\n[03:41.85] Forty six minutes from 355\n[03:43.28] Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n[03:45.29] Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n[03:47.45] North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.74] Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n[03:52.44] Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood feat. G Herbo & Cocaine 80s\n artist: Common\n album: Nobody’s Smiling\n duration_ms: 238000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 1680\n end_ms: 3540\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 3540\n end_ms: 5990\n- text: We were trading our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5990\n end_ms: 11830\n- text: Made the sacrifice\n start_ms: 11830\n end_ms: 13780\n- text: Headed back to the light\n start_ms: 13780\n end_ms: 16210\n- text: But be careful don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16210\n end_ms: 21560\n- text: I know it glows but it's cold\n start_ms: 21560\n end_ms: 27150\n- text: I'm from the other side of town\n start_ms: 27150\n end_ms: 35960\n- text: Out of bounds\n start_ms: 35960\n end_ms: 38720\n- text: To anybody who don't live around\n start_ms: 38720\n end_ms: 44450\n- text: I never learned to share or how to care\n start_ms: 44450\n end_ms: 52530\n- text: I never had no teachings about being fair\n start_ms: 52530\n end_ms: 60920\n- text: Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n start_ms: 60920\n end_ms: 63040\n- text: And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n start_ms: 63040\n end_ms: 65200\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 65200\n end_ms: 68200\n- text: They gave violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 68200\n end_ms: 71820\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 71820\n end_ms: 74820\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 74820\n end_ms: 77930\n- text: The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n start_ms: 77930\n end_ms: 81000\n- text: They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81000\n end_ms: 84180\n- text: The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n start_ms: 84180\n end_ms: 86370\n- text: Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86370\n end_ms: 89250\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89250\n end_ms: 92100\n- text: A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n start_ms: 92100\n end_ms: 95130\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95130\n end_ms: 97940\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 97940\n end_ms: 100860\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 100860\n end_ms: 102890\n- text: Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 102890\n end_ms: 105880\n- text: Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 105880\n end_ms: 108800\n- text: When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 108800\n end_ms: 112390\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 112390\n end_ms: 115260\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115260\n end_ms: 118540\n- text: You know they don't see sometimes\n start_ms: 118540\n end_ms: 120390\n- text: That in the neighborhood\n start_ms: 120390\n end_ms: 122190\n- text: It's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 122190\n end_ms: 124930\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again\n start_ms: 124930\n end_ms: 127600\n- text: Feel me?\n start_ms: 127600\n end_ms: 132860\n- text: Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n start_ms: 132860\n end_ms: 135500\n- text: Folly boy, O block, eastside\n start_ms: 135500\n end_ms: 137470\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 137470\n end_ms: 140790\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140790\n end_ms: 143750\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n start_ms: 143750\n end_ms: 146600\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146600\n end_ms: 149310\n- text: I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149310\n end_ms: 152190\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152190\n end_ms: 155210\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155210\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161400\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161400\n end_ms: 164130\n- text: Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n start_ms: 164130\n end_ms: 167250\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167250\n end_ms: 169900\n- text: No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n start_ms: 169900\n end_ms: 173520\n- text: Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n start_ms: 173520\n end_ms: 176520\n- text: Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n start_ms: 176520\n end_ms: 179450\n- text: Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 179450\n end_ms: 182220\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n start_ms: 182220\n end_ms: 184960\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n start_ms: 184960\n end_ms: 187800\n- text: You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187800\n end_ms: 220390\n- text: Coming inbound\n start_ms: 220390\n end_ms: 221850\n- text: Forty six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 221850\n end_ms: 223280\n- text: Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n start_ms: 223280\n end_ms: 225290\n- text: Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n start_ms: 225290\n end_ms: 227450\n- text: North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227450\n end_ms: 228740\n- text: Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n start_ms: 228740\n end_ms: 232440\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 232440\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We were trading our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice\n Headed back to the light\n But be careful don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows but it's cold\n\n I'm from the other side of town\n Out of bounds\n To anybody who don't live around\n I never learned to share or how to care\n I never had no teachings about being fair\n\n Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n They gave violations, hood public relations\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know they don't see sometimes\n That in the neighborhood\n It's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again\n Feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n Folly boy, O block, eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Coming inbound\n Forty six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n"},{"id":34674075,"name":"The Neighborhood ft. Lil-Herb, Cocaine 80s","trackName":"The Neighborhood ft. Lil-Herb, Cocaine 80s","artistName":"Common","albumName":"Nobody’s Smiling","duration":238.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe would trade in our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice, headed back to the light\nBut be careful, don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows, but it's cold\n\nHave you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\nThe four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThe gang violations, hood public relations\n\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\nThey the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan and terror of Bush\nCrack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n\nWhen they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know what they don't see sometimes?\nThat in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\nFozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n\nI been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\nWhere I come from, ain't no hope\nIf you was clean, then that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n\nThat's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\nYeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n'Cause they will hit, or we take your\nShorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\nI mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nInbound, forty-six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\nLake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\nJammed north through Grant Park\nTri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\nAnd St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\nOn Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.26] Thousand lives ago\n[00:02.42] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.01] We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.75] Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n[00:16.55] But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n[00:23.28] I know it glows, but it's cold\n[00:28.74] \n[01:00.65] Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n[01:03.59] The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n[01:06.62] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:09.58] The gang violations, hood public relations\n[01:12.73] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:15.08] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:18.25] The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n[01:21.23] They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:23.97] The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n[01:26.47] Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.45] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.66] A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n[01:35.76] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:38.25] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:41.16] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:43.32] Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n[01:46.29] 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:49.43] When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n[01:53.05] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.34] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.78] You know what they don't see sometimes?\n[02:00.83] That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n[02:04.42] It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n[02:12.44] Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n[02:15.80] Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n[02:18.19] Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.98] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.92] Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n[02:26.73] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.62] I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.51] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.39] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.31] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n[02:41.33] But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n[02:43.97] Where I come from, ain't no hope\n[02:45.35] If you was clean, then that was major\n[02:47.02] Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.72] No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n[02:52.88] That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n[02:55.79] Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n[02:58.50] 'Cause they will hit, or we take your\n[03:00.33] Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n[03:02.36] I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n[03:05.16] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n[03:07.99] I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:12.61] \n[03:15.92] Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n[03:42.68] Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n[03:44.98] Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n[03:47.36] Jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.63] Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n[03:50.73] And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n[03:52.74] Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n[03:55.07] On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n[03:58.35] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood ft. Lil-Herb, Cocaine 80s\n artist: Common\n album: Nobody’s Smiling\n duration_ms: 238000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 260\n end_ms: 2420\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 2420\n end_ms: 5010\n- text: We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5010\n end_ms: 11750\n- text: Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n start_ms: 11750\n end_ms: 16550\n- text: But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16550\n end_ms: 23280\n- text: I know it glows, but it's cold\n start_ms: 23280\n end_ms: 28740\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 28740\n end_ms: 60650\n- text: Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n start_ms: 60650\n end_ms: 63590\n- text: The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n start_ms: 63590\n end_ms: 66620\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 66620\n end_ms: 69580\n- text: The gang violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 69580\n end_ms: 72730\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 72730\n end_ms: 75080\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 75080\n end_ms: 78250\n- text: The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n start_ms: 78250\n end_ms: 81230\n- text: They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81230\n end_ms: 83970\n- text: The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n start_ms: 83970\n end_ms: 86470\n- text: Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86470\n end_ms: 89450\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89450\n end_ms: 92660\n- text: A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n start_ms: 92660\n end_ms: 95760\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95760\n end_ms: 98250\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 98250\n end_ms: 101160\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 101160\n end_ms: 103320\n- text: Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 103320\n end_ms: 106290\n- text: 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 106290\n end_ms: 109430\n- text: When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 109430\n end_ms: 113050\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 113050\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118780\n- text: You know what they don't see sometimes?\n start_ms: 118780\n end_ms: 120830\n- text: That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 120830\n end_ms: 124420\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n start_ms: 124420\n end_ms: 132440\n- text: Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n start_ms: 132440\n end_ms: 135800\n- text: Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n start_ms: 135800\n end_ms: 138190\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 138190\n end_ms: 140980\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140980\n end_ms: 143920\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n start_ms: 143920\n end_ms: 146730\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146730\n end_ms: 149620\n- text: I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149620\n end_ms: 152510\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152510\n end_ms: 155390\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155390\n end_ms: 158310\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n start_ms: 158310\n end_ms: 161330\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161330\n end_ms: 163970\n- text: Where I come from, ain't no hope\n start_ms: 163970\n end_ms: 165350\n- text: If you was clean, then that was major\n start_ms: 165350\n end_ms: 167020\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167020\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172880\n- text: That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n start_ms: 172880\n end_ms: 175790\n- text: Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n start_ms: 175790\n end_ms: 178500\n- text: '''Cause they will hit, or we take your'\n start_ms: 178500\n end_ms: 180330\n- text: Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 180330\n end_ms: 182360\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n start_ms: 182360\n end_ms: 185160\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n start_ms: 185160\n end_ms: 187990\n- text: I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187990\n end_ms: 192610\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 192610\n end_ms: 195920\n- text: Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 195920\n end_ms: 222680\n- text: Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n start_ms: 222680\n end_ms: 224980\n- text: Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n start_ms: 224980\n end_ms: 227360\n- text: Jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227360\n end_ms: 228630\n- text: Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n start_ms: 228630\n end_ms: 230730\n- text: And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n start_ms: 230730\n end_ms: 232740\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n start_ms: 232740\n end_ms: 235070\n- text: On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 235070\n end_ms: 238350\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 238350\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows, but it's cold\n\n Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n The gang violations, hood public relations\n\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n\n When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know what they don't see sometimes?\n That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n\n I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n Where I come from, ain't no hope\n If you was clean, then that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n\n That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n 'Cause they will hit, or we take your\n Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n Jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n"},{"id":29249513,"name":"The Neighborhood (feat. Lil Herb & Cocaine 80s)","trackName":"The Neighborhood (feat. Lil Herb & Cocaine 80s)","artistName":"Common","albumName":"Nobody's Smiling [Deluxe Edition]","duration":238.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe would trade in our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice, headed back to the light\nBut be careful, don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows, but it's cold\n\nHave you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\nThe four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThe gang violations, hood public relations\n\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\nThey the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan and terror of Bush\nCrack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n\nWhen they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know what they don't see sometimes?\nThat in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\nFozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n\nI been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\nWhere I come from, ain't no hope\nIf you was clean, then that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n\nThat's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\nYeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n'Cause they will hit, or we take your\nShorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\nI mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nInbound, forty-six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\nLake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\nJammed north through Grant Park\nTri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\nAnd St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\nOn Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.26] Thousand lives ago\n[00:02.42] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.01] We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.75] Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n[00:16.55] But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n[00:23.28] I know it glows, but it's cold\n[00:28.74] \n[01:00.65] Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n[01:03.59] The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n[01:06.62] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:09.58] The gang violations, hood public relations\n[01:12.73] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:15.08] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:18.25] The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n[01:21.23] They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:23.97] The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n[01:26.47] Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.45] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.66] A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n[01:35.76] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:38.25] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:41.16] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:43.32] Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n[01:46.29] 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:49.43] When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n[01:53.05] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.34] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.78] You know what they don't see sometimes?\n[02:00.83] That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n[02:04.42] It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n[02:12.44] Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n[02:15.80] Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n[02:18.19] Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.98] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.92] Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n[02:26.73] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.62] I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.51] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.39] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.31] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n[02:41.33] But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n[02:43.97] Where I come from, ain't no hope\n[02:45.35] If you was clean, then that was major\n[02:47.02] Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.72] No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n[02:52.88] That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n[02:55.79] Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n[02:58.50] 'Cause they will hit, or we take your\n[03:00.33] Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n[03:02.36] I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n[03:05.16] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n[03:07.99] I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:12.61] \n[03:15.92] Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n[03:42.68] Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n[03:44.98] Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n[03:47.36] Jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.63] Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n[03:50.73] And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n[03:52.74] Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n[03:55.07] On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n[03:58.35] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood (feat. Lil Herb & Cocaine 80s)\n artist: Common\n album: Nobody's Smiling [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 238000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 260\n end_ms: 2420\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 2420\n end_ms: 5010\n- text: We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5010\n end_ms: 11750\n- text: Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n start_ms: 11750\n end_ms: 16550\n- text: But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16550\n end_ms: 23280\n- text: I know it glows, but it's cold\n start_ms: 23280\n end_ms: 28740\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 28740\n end_ms: 60650\n- text: Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n start_ms: 60650\n end_ms: 63590\n- text: The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n start_ms: 63590\n end_ms: 66620\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 66620\n end_ms: 69580\n- text: The gang violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 69580\n end_ms: 72730\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 72730\n end_ms: 75080\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 75080\n end_ms: 78250\n- text: The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n start_ms: 78250\n end_ms: 81230\n- text: They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81230\n end_ms: 83970\n- text: The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n start_ms: 83970\n end_ms: 86470\n- text: Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86470\n end_ms: 89450\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89450\n end_ms: 92660\n- text: A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n start_ms: 92660\n end_ms: 95760\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95760\n end_ms: 98250\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 98250\n end_ms: 101160\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 101160\n end_ms: 103320\n- text: Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 103320\n end_ms: 106290\n- text: 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 106290\n end_ms: 109430\n- text: When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 109430\n end_ms: 113050\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 113050\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118780\n- text: You know what they don't see sometimes?\n start_ms: 118780\n end_ms: 120830\n- text: That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 120830\n end_ms: 124420\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n start_ms: 124420\n end_ms: 132440\n- text: Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n start_ms: 132440\n end_ms: 135800\n- text: Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n start_ms: 135800\n end_ms: 138190\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 138190\n end_ms: 140980\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140980\n end_ms: 143920\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n start_ms: 143920\n end_ms: 146730\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146730\n end_ms: 149620\n- text: I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149620\n end_ms: 152510\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152510\n end_ms: 155390\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155390\n end_ms: 158310\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n start_ms: 158310\n end_ms: 161330\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161330\n end_ms: 163970\n- text: Where I come from, ain't no hope\n start_ms: 163970\n end_ms: 165350\n- text: If you was clean, then that was major\n start_ms: 165350\n end_ms: 167020\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167020\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172880\n- text: That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n start_ms: 172880\n end_ms: 175790\n- text: Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n start_ms: 175790\n end_ms: 178500\n- text: '''Cause they will hit, or we take your'\n start_ms: 178500\n end_ms: 180330\n- text: Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 180330\n end_ms: 182360\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n start_ms: 182360\n end_ms: 185160\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n start_ms: 185160\n end_ms: 187990\n- text: I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187990\n end_ms: 192610\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 192610\n end_ms: 195920\n- text: Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 195920\n end_ms: 222680\n- text: Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n start_ms: 222680\n end_ms: 224980\n- text: Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n start_ms: 224980\n end_ms: 227360\n- text: Jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227360\n end_ms: 228630\n- text: Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n start_ms: 228630\n end_ms: 230730\n- text: And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n start_ms: 230730\n end_ms: 232740\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n start_ms: 232740\n end_ms: 235070\n- text: On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 235070\n end_ms: 238350\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 238350\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows, but it's cold\n\n Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n The gang violations, hood public relations\n\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n\n When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know what they don't see sometimes?\n That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n\n I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n Where I come from, ain't no hope\n If you was clean, then that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n\n That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n 'Cause they will hit, or we take your\n Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n Jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n"},{"id":27161808,"name":"The Neighborhood (feat. Lil Herb & Cocaine 80s)","trackName":"The Neighborhood (feat. Lil Herb & Cocaine 80s)","artistName":"Common","albumName":"Nobody's Smiling (Deluxe)","duration":238.493333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe would trade in our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice, headed back to the light\nBut be careful, don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows, but it's cold\n\nHave you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\nThe four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThe gang violations, hood public relations\n\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\nThey the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan and terror of Bush\nCrack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n\nWhen they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know what they don't see sometimes?\nThat in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\nFozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n\nI been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\nWhere I come from, ain't no hope\nIf you was clean, then that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n\nThat's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\nYeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n'Cause they will hit, or we take your\nShorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\nI mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nInbound, forty-six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\nLake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\nJammed north through Grant Park\nTri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\nAnd St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\nOn Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.26] Thousand lives ago\n[00:02.42] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.01] We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.75] Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n[00:16.55] But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n[00:23.28] I know it glows, but it's cold\n[00:28.74] \n[01:00.65] Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n[01:03.59] The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n[01:06.62] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:09.58] The gang violations, hood public relations\n[01:12.73] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:15.08] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:18.25] The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n[01:21.23] They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:23.97] The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n[01:26.47] Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.45] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.66] A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n[01:35.76] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:38.25] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:41.16] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:43.32] Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n[01:46.29] 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:49.43] When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n[01:53.05] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.34] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.78] You know what they don't see sometimes?\n[02:00.83] That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n[02:04.42] It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n[02:12.44] Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n[02:15.80] Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n[02:18.19] Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.98] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.92] Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n[02:26.73] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.62] I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.51] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.39] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.31] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n[02:41.33] But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n[02:43.97] Where I come from, ain't no hope\n[02:45.35] If you was clean, then that was major\n[02:47.02] Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.72] No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n[02:52.88] That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n[02:55.79] Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n[02:58.50] 'Cause they will hit, or we take your\n[03:00.33] Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n[03:02.36] I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n[03:05.16] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n[03:07.99] I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:12.61] \n[03:15.92] Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n[03:42.68] Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n[03:44.98] Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n[03:47.36] Jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.63] Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n[03:50.73] And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n[03:52.74] Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n[03:55.07] On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n[03:58.35] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood (feat. Lil Herb & Cocaine 80s)\n artist: Common\n album: Nobody's Smiling (Deluxe)\n duration_ms: 238493\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 260\n end_ms: 2420\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 2420\n end_ms: 5010\n- text: We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5010\n end_ms: 11750\n- text: Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n start_ms: 11750\n end_ms: 16550\n- text: But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16550\n end_ms: 23280\n- text: I know it glows, but it's cold\n start_ms: 23280\n end_ms: 28740\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 28740\n end_ms: 60650\n- text: Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n start_ms: 60650\n end_ms: 63590\n- text: The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n start_ms: 63590\n end_ms: 66620\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 66620\n end_ms: 69580\n- text: The gang violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 69580\n end_ms: 72730\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 72730\n end_ms: 75080\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 75080\n end_ms: 78250\n- text: The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n start_ms: 78250\n end_ms: 81230\n- text: They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81230\n end_ms: 83970\n- text: The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n start_ms: 83970\n end_ms: 86470\n- text: Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86470\n end_ms: 89450\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89450\n end_ms: 92660\n- text: A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n start_ms: 92660\n end_ms: 95760\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95760\n end_ms: 98250\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 98250\n end_ms: 101160\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 101160\n end_ms: 103320\n- text: Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 103320\n end_ms: 106290\n- text: 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 106290\n end_ms: 109430\n- text: When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 109430\n end_ms: 113050\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 113050\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118780\n- text: You know what they don't see sometimes?\n start_ms: 118780\n end_ms: 120830\n- text: That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 120830\n end_ms: 124420\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n start_ms: 124420\n end_ms: 132440\n- text: Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n start_ms: 132440\n end_ms: 135800\n- text: Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n start_ms: 135800\n end_ms: 138190\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 138190\n end_ms: 140980\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140980\n end_ms: 143920\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n start_ms: 143920\n end_ms: 146730\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146730\n end_ms: 149620\n- text: I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149620\n end_ms: 152510\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152510\n end_ms: 155390\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155390\n end_ms: 158310\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n start_ms: 158310\n end_ms: 161330\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161330\n end_ms: 163970\n- text: Where I come from, ain't no hope\n start_ms: 163970\n end_ms: 165350\n- text: If you was clean, then that was major\n start_ms: 165350\n end_ms: 167020\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167020\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172880\n- text: That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n start_ms: 172880\n end_ms: 175790\n- text: Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n start_ms: 175790\n end_ms: 178500\n- text: '''Cause they will hit, or we take your'\n start_ms: 178500\n end_ms: 180330\n- text: Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 180330\n end_ms: 182360\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n start_ms: 182360\n end_ms: 185160\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n start_ms: 185160\n end_ms: 187990\n- text: I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187990\n end_ms: 192610\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 192610\n end_ms: 195920\n- text: Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 195920\n end_ms: 222680\n- text: Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n start_ms: 222680\n end_ms: 224980\n- text: Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n start_ms: 224980\n end_ms: 227360\n- text: Jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227360\n end_ms: 228630\n- text: Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n start_ms: 228630\n end_ms: 230730\n- text: And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n start_ms: 230730\n end_ms: 232740\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n start_ms: 232740\n end_ms: 235070\n- text: On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 235070\n end_ms: 238350\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 238350\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows, but it's cold\n\n Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n The gang violations, hood public relations\n\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n\n When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know what they don't see sometimes?\n That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n\n I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n Where I come from, ain't no hope\n If you was clean, then that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n\n That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n 'Cause they will hit, or we take your\n Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n Jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n"},{"id":28800232,"name":"The Neighborhood (feat. Lil Herb & Cocaine 80s)","trackName":"The Neighborhood (feat. Lil Herb & Cocaine 80s)","artistName":"Common","albumName":"Nobody's Smiling","duration":239.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe would trade in our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice, headed back to the light\nBut be careful, don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows, but it's cold\n\nHave you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\nThe four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThe gang violations, hood public relations\n\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\nThey the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan and terror of Bush\nCrack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n\nWhen they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know what they don't see sometimes?\nThat in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\nFozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n\nI been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\nWhere I come from, ain't no hope\nIf you was clean, then that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n\nThat's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\nYeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n'Cause they will hit, or we take your\nShorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\nI mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nInbound, forty-six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\nLake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\nJammed north through Grant Park\nTri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\nAnd St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\nOn Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.26] Thousand lives ago\n[00:02.42] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.01] We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.75] Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n[00:16.55] But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n[00:23.28] I know it glows, but it's cold\n[00:28.74] \n[01:00.65] Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n[01:03.59] The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n[01:06.62] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:09.58] The gang violations, hood public relations\n[01:12.73] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:15.08] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:18.25] The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n[01:21.23] They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:23.97] The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n[01:26.47] Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.45] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.66] A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n[01:35.76] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:38.25] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:41.16] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:43.32] Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n[01:46.29] 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:49.43] When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n[01:53.05] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.34] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.78] You know what they don't see sometimes?\n[02:00.83] That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n[02:04.42] It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n[02:12.44] Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n[02:15.80] Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n[02:18.19] Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.98] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.92] Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n[02:26.73] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.62] I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.51] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.39] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.31] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n[02:41.33] But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n[02:43.97] Where I come from, ain't no hope\n[02:45.35] If you was clean, then that was major\n[02:47.02] Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.72] No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n[02:52.88] That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n[02:55.79] Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n[02:58.50] 'Cause they will hit, or we take your\n[03:00.33] Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n[03:02.36] I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n[03:05.16] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n[03:07.99] I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:12.61] \n[03:15.92] Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n[03:42.68] Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n[03:44.98] Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n[03:47.36] Jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.63] Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n[03:50.73] And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n[03:52.74] Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n[03:55.07] On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n[03:58.35] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood (feat. Lil Herb & Cocaine 80s)\n artist: Common\n album: Nobody's Smiling\n duration_ms: 239000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 260\n end_ms: 2420\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 2420\n end_ms: 5010\n- text: We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5010\n end_ms: 11750\n- text: Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n start_ms: 11750\n end_ms: 16550\n- text: But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16550\n end_ms: 23280\n- text: I know it glows, but it's cold\n start_ms: 23280\n end_ms: 28740\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 28740\n end_ms: 60650\n- text: Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n start_ms: 60650\n end_ms: 63590\n- text: The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n start_ms: 63590\n end_ms: 66620\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 66620\n end_ms: 69580\n- text: The gang violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 69580\n end_ms: 72730\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 72730\n end_ms: 75080\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 75080\n end_ms: 78250\n- text: The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n start_ms: 78250\n end_ms: 81230\n- text: They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81230\n end_ms: 83970\n- text: The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n start_ms: 83970\n end_ms: 86470\n- text: Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86470\n end_ms: 89450\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89450\n end_ms: 92660\n- text: A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n start_ms: 92660\n end_ms: 95760\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95760\n end_ms: 98250\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 98250\n end_ms: 101160\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 101160\n end_ms: 103320\n- text: Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 103320\n end_ms: 106290\n- text: 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 106290\n end_ms: 109430\n- text: When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 109430\n end_ms: 113050\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 113050\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118780\n- text: You know what they don't see sometimes?\n start_ms: 118780\n end_ms: 120830\n- text: That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 120830\n end_ms: 124420\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n start_ms: 124420\n end_ms: 132440\n- text: Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n start_ms: 132440\n end_ms: 135800\n- text: Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n start_ms: 135800\n end_ms: 138190\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 138190\n end_ms: 140980\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140980\n end_ms: 143920\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n start_ms: 143920\n end_ms: 146730\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146730\n end_ms: 149620\n- text: I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149620\n end_ms: 152510\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152510\n end_ms: 155390\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155390\n end_ms: 158310\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n start_ms: 158310\n end_ms: 161330\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161330\n end_ms: 163970\n- text: Where I come from, ain't no hope\n start_ms: 163970\n end_ms: 165350\n- text: If you was clean, then that was major\n start_ms: 165350\n end_ms: 167020\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167020\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172880\n- text: That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n start_ms: 172880\n end_ms: 175790\n- text: Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n start_ms: 175790\n end_ms: 178500\n- text: '''Cause they will hit, or we take your'\n start_ms: 178500\n end_ms: 180330\n- text: Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 180330\n end_ms: 182360\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n start_ms: 182360\n end_ms: 185160\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n start_ms: 185160\n end_ms: 187990\n- text: I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187990\n end_ms: 192610\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 192610\n end_ms: 195920\n- text: Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 195920\n end_ms: 222680\n- text: Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n start_ms: 222680\n end_ms: 224980\n- text: Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n start_ms: 224980\n end_ms: 227360\n- text: Jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227360\n end_ms: 228630\n- text: Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n start_ms: 228630\n end_ms: 230730\n- text: And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n start_ms: 230730\n end_ms: 232740\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n start_ms: 232740\n end_ms: 235070\n- text: On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 235070\n end_ms: 238350\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 238350\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows, but it's cold\n\n Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n The gang violations, hood public relations\n\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n\n When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know what they don't see sometimes?\n That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n\n I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n Where I come from, ain't no hope\n If you was clean, then that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n\n That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n 'Cause they will hit, or we take your\n Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n Jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n"},{"id":7580377,"name":"The Neighborhood","trackName":"The Neighborhood","artistName":"Common feat. G Herbo & Cocaine 80s","albumName":"Nobody's Smiling","duration":239.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe were trading our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice\nHeaded back to the light\nBut be careful don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows but it's cold\n\nI'm from the other side of town\nOut of bounds\nTo anybody who don't live around\nI never learned to share or how to care\nI never had no teachings about being fair\n\nHave you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\nAnd Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThey gave violations, hood public relations\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\nThey the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\nCrack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\nForties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\nWhen they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know they don't see sometimes\nThat in the neighborhood\nIt's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again\nFeel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\nFolly boy, O block, eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\nI've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\nWhere I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\nSame niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\nBetter watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\nHomie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\nYou ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nComing inbound\nForty six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\nLake Shore Drive's heavy south\nNorth Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\nTri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.68] Thousand lives ago\n[00:03.54] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.99] We were trading our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.83] Made the sacrifice\n[00:13.78] Headed back to the light\n[00:16.21] But be careful don't drown in the gold\n[00:21.56] I know it glows but it's cold\n[00:27.15] I'm from the other side of town\n[00:35.96] Out of bounds\n[00:38.72] To anybody who don't live around\n[00:44.45] I never learned to share or how to care\n[00:52.53] I never had no teachings about being fair\n[01:00.92] Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n[01:03.04] And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n[01:05.20] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:08.20] They gave violations, hood public relations\n[01:11.82] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:14.82] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:17.93] The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n[01:21.00] They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:24.18] The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n[01:26.37] Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.25] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.10] A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n[01:35.13] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:37.94] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:40.86] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:42.89] Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n[01:45.88] Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:48.80] When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n[01:52.39] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.26] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.54] You know they don't see sometimes\n[02:00.39] That in the neighborhood\n[02:02.19] It's the exact same thing\n[02:04.93] It's the same thing over and over again\n[02:07.60] Feel me?\n[02:12.86] Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n[02:15.50] Folly boy, O block, eastside\n[02:17.47] Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.79] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.75] Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n[02:26.60] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.31] I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.19] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.21] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.23] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n[02:41.40] But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n[02:44.13] Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n[02:47.25] Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.90] No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n[02:53.52] Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n[02:56.52] Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n[02:59.45] Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n[03:02.22] I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n[03:04.96] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n[03:07.80] You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:40.39] Coming inbound\n[03:41.85] Forty six minutes from 355\n[03:43.28] Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n[03:45.29] Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n[03:47.45] North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.74] Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n[03:52.44] Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood\n artist: Common feat. G Herbo & Cocaine 80s\n album: Nobody's Smiling\n duration_ms: 239000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 1680\n end_ms: 3540\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 3540\n end_ms: 5990\n- text: We were trading our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5990\n end_ms: 11830\n- text: Made the sacrifice\n start_ms: 11830\n end_ms: 13780\n- text: Headed back to the light\n start_ms: 13780\n end_ms: 16210\n- text: But be careful don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16210\n end_ms: 21560\n- text: I know it glows but it's cold\n start_ms: 21560\n end_ms: 27150\n- text: I'm from the other side of town\n start_ms: 27150\n end_ms: 35960\n- text: Out of bounds\n start_ms: 35960\n end_ms: 38720\n- text: To anybody who don't live around\n start_ms: 38720\n end_ms: 44450\n- text: I never learned to share or how to care\n start_ms: 44450\n end_ms: 52530\n- text: I never had no teachings about being fair\n start_ms: 52530\n end_ms: 60920\n- text: Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n start_ms: 60920\n end_ms: 63040\n- text: And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n start_ms: 63040\n end_ms: 65200\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 65200\n end_ms: 68200\n- text: They gave violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 68200\n end_ms: 71820\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 71820\n end_ms: 74820\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 74820\n end_ms: 77930\n- text: The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n start_ms: 77930\n end_ms: 81000\n- text: They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81000\n end_ms: 84180\n- text: The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n start_ms: 84180\n end_ms: 86370\n- text: Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86370\n end_ms: 89250\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89250\n end_ms: 92100\n- text: A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n start_ms: 92100\n end_ms: 95130\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95130\n end_ms: 97940\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 97940\n end_ms: 100860\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 100860\n end_ms: 102890\n- text: Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 102890\n end_ms: 105880\n- text: Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 105880\n end_ms: 108800\n- text: When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 108800\n end_ms: 112390\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 112390\n end_ms: 115260\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115260\n end_ms: 118540\n- text: You know they don't see sometimes\n start_ms: 118540\n end_ms: 120390\n- text: That in the neighborhood\n start_ms: 120390\n end_ms: 122190\n- text: It's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 122190\n end_ms: 124930\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again\n start_ms: 124930\n end_ms: 127600\n- text: Feel me?\n start_ms: 127600\n end_ms: 132860\n- text: Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n start_ms: 132860\n end_ms: 135500\n- text: Folly boy, O block, eastside\n start_ms: 135500\n end_ms: 137470\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 137470\n end_ms: 140790\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140790\n end_ms: 143750\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n start_ms: 143750\n end_ms: 146600\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146600\n end_ms: 149310\n- text: I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149310\n end_ms: 152190\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152190\n end_ms: 155210\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155210\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161400\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161400\n end_ms: 164130\n- text: Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n start_ms: 164130\n end_ms: 167250\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167250\n end_ms: 169900\n- text: No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n start_ms: 169900\n end_ms: 173520\n- text: Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n start_ms: 173520\n end_ms: 176520\n- text: Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n start_ms: 176520\n end_ms: 179450\n- text: Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 179450\n end_ms: 182220\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n start_ms: 182220\n end_ms: 184960\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n start_ms: 184960\n end_ms: 187800\n- text: You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187800\n end_ms: 220390\n- text: Coming inbound\n start_ms: 220390\n end_ms: 221850\n- text: Forty six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 221850\n end_ms: 223280\n- text: Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n start_ms: 223280\n end_ms: 225290\n- text: Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n start_ms: 225290\n end_ms: 227450\n- text: North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227450\n end_ms: 228740\n- text: Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n start_ms: 228740\n end_ms: 232440\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 232440\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We were trading our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice\n Headed back to the light\n But be careful don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows but it's cold\n\n I'm from the other side of town\n Out of bounds\n To anybody who don't live around\n I never learned to share or how to care\n I never had no teachings about being fair\n\n Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n They gave violations, hood public relations\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know they don't see sometimes\n That in the neighborhood\n It's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again\n Feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n Folly boy, O block, eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Coming inbound\n Forty six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n"},{"id":28293938,"name":"The Neighborhood","trackName":"The Neighborhood","artistName":"Common feat. Lil Herb & Cocaine 80s","albumName":"Nobody's Smiling","duration":239.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe would trade in our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice, headed back to the light\nBut be careful, don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows, but it's cold\n\nHave you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\nThe four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThe gang violations, hood public relations\n\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\nThey the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan and terror of Bush\nCrack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n\nWhen they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know what they don't see sometimes?\nThat in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\nFozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n\nI been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\nWhere I come from, ain't no hope\nIf you was clean, then that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n\nThat's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\nYeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n'Cause they will hit, or we take your\nShorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\nI mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nInbound, forty-six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\nLake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\nJammed north through Grant Park\nTri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\nAnd St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\nOn Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.26] Thousand lives ago\n[00:02.42] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.01] We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.75] Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n[00:16.55] But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n[00:23.28] I know it glows, but it's cold\n[00:28.74] \n[01:00.65] Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n[01:03.59] The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n[01:06.62] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:09.58] The gang violations, hood public relations\n[01:12.73] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:15.08] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:18.25] The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n[01:21.23] They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:23.97] The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n[01:26.47] Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.45] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.66] A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n[01:35.76] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:38.25] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:41.16] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:43.32] Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n[01:46.29] 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:49.43] When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n[01:53.05] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.34] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.78] You know what they don't see sometimes?\n[02:00.83] That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n[02:04.42] It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n[02:12.44] Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n[02:15.80] Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n[02:18.19] Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.98] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.92] Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n[02:26.73] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.62] I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.51] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.39] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.31] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n[02:41.33] But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n[02:43.97] Where I come from, ain't no hope\n[02:45.35] If you was clean, then that was major\n[02:47.02] Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.72] No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n[02:52.88] That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n[02:55.79] Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n[02:58.50] 'Cause they will hit, or we take your\n[03:00.33] Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n[03:02.36] I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n[03:05.16] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n[03:07.99] I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:12.61] \n[03:15.92] Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n[03:42.68] Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n[03:44.98] Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n[03:47.36] Jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.63] Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n[03:50.73] And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n[03:52.74] Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n[03:55.07] On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n[03:58.35] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood\n artist: Common feat. Lil Herb & Cocaine 80s\n album: Nobody's Smiling\n duration_ms: 239000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 260\n end_ms: 2420\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 2420\n end_ms: 5010\n- text: We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5010\n end_ms: 11750\n- text: Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n start_ms: 11750\n end_ms: 16550\n- text: But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16550\n end_ms: 23280\n- text: I know it glows, but it's cold\n start_ms: 23280\n end_ms: 28740\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 28740\n end_ms: 60650\n- text: Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n start_ms: 60650\n end_ms: 63590\n- text: The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n start_ms: 63590\n end_ms: 66620\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 66620\n end_ms: 69580\n- text: The gang violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 69580\n end_ms: 72730\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 72730\n end_ms: 75080\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 75080\n end_ms: 78250\n- text: The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n start_ms: 78250\n end_ms: 81230\n- text: They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81230\n end_ms: 83970\n- text: The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n start_ms: 83970\n end_ms: 86470\n- text: Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86470\n end_ms: 89450\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89450\n end_ms: 92660\n- text: A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n start_ms: 92660\n end_ms: 95760\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95760\n end_ms: 98250\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 98250\n end_ms: 101160\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 101160\n end_ms: 103320\n- text: Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 103320\n end_ms: 106290\n- text: 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 106290\n end_ms: 109430\n- text: When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 109430\n end_ms: 113050\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 113050\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118780\n- text: You know what they don't see sometimes?\n start_ms: 118780\n end_ms: 120830\n- text: That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 120830\n end_ms: 124420\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n start_ms: 124420\n end_ms: 132440\n- text: Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n start_ms: 132440\n end_ms: 135800\n- text: Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n start_ms: 135800\n end_ms: 138190\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 138190\n end_ms: 140980\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140980\n end_ms: 143920\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n start_ms: 143920\n end_ms: 146730\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146730\n end_ms: 149620\n- text: I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149620\n end_ms: 152510\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152510\n end_ms: 155390\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155390\n end_ms: 158310\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n start_ms: 158310\n end_ms: 161330\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161330\n end_ms: 163970\n- text: Where I come from, ain't no hope\n start_ms: 163970\n end_ms: 165350\n- text: If you was clean, then that was major\n start_ms: 165350\n end_ms: 167020\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167020\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172880\n- text: That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n start_ms: 172880\n end_ms: 175790\n- text: Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n start_ms: 175790\n end_ms: 178500\n- text: '''Cause they will hit, or we take your'\n start_ms: 178500\n end_ms: 180330\n- text: Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 180330\n end_ms: 182360\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n start_ms: 182360\n end_ms: 185160\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n start_ms: 185160\n end_ms: 187990\n- text: I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187990\n end_ms: 192610\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 192610\n end_ms: 195920\n- text: Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 195920\n end_ms: 222680\n- text: Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n start_ms: 222680\n end_ms: 224980\n- text: Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n start_ms: 224980\n end_ms: 227360\n- text: Jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227360\n end_ms: 228630\n- text: Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n start_ms: 228630\n end_ms: 230730\n- text: And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n start_ms: 230730\n end_ms: 232740\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n start_ms: 232740\n end_ms: 235070\n- text: On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 235070\n end_ms: 238350\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 238350\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows, but it's cold\n\n Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n The gang violations, hood public relations\n\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n\n When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know what they don't see sometimes?\n That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n\n I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n Where I come from, ain't no hope\n If you was clean, then that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n\n That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n 'Cause they will hit, or we take your\n Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n Jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n"},{"id":30046210,"name":"The Neighborhood feat. Lil' Herb & Cocaine 80s (No I.D.)","trackName":"The Neighborhood feat. Lil' Herb & Cocaine 80s (No I.D.)","artistName":"Common","albumName":"Nobody Smiling (Deluxe)","duration":239.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe would trade in our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice, headed back to the light\nBut be careful, don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows, but it's cold\n\nHave you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\nThe four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThe gang violations, hood public relations\n\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\nThey the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan and terror of Bush\nCrack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n\nWhen they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know what they don't see sometimes?\nThat in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\nFozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n\nI been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\nWhere I come from, ain't no hope\nIf you was clean, then that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n\nThat's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\nYeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n'Cause they will hit, or we take your\nShorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\nI mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nInbound, forty-six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\nLake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\nJammed north through Grant Park\nTri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\nAnd St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\nOn Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.26] Thousand lives ago\n[00:02.42] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.01] We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.75] Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n[00:16.55] But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n[00:23.28] I know it glows, but it's cold\n[00:28.74] \n[01:00.65] Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n[01:03.59] The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n[01:06.62] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:09.58] The gang violations, hood public relations\n[01:12.73] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:15.08] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:18.25] The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n[01:21.23] They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:23.97] The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n[01:26.47] Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.45] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.66] A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n[01:35.76] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:38.25] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:41.16] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:43.32] Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n[01:46.29] 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:49.43] When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n[01:53.05] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.34] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.78] You know what they don't see sometimes?\n[02:00.83] That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n[02:04.42] It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n[02:12.44] Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n[02:15.80] Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n[02:18.19] Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.98] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.92] Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n[02:26.73] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.62] I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.51] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.39] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.31] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n[02:41.33] But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n[02:43.97] Where I come from, ain't no hope\n[02:45.35] If you was clean, then that was major\n[02:47.02] Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.72] No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n[02:52.88] That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n[02:55.79] Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n[02:58.50] 'Cause they will hit, or we take your\n[03:00.33] Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n[03:02.36] I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n[03:05.16] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n[03:07.99] I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:12.61] \n[03:15.92] Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n[03:42.68] Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n[03:44.98] Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n[03:47.36] Jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.63] Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n[03:50.73] And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n[03:52.74] Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n[03:55.07] On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n[03:58.35] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood feat. Lil' Herb & Cocaine 80s (No I.D.)\n artist: Common\n album: Nobody Smiling (Deluxe)\n duration_ms: 239000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 260\n end_ms: 2420\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 2420\n end_ms: 5010\n- text: We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5010\n end_ms: 11750\n- text: Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n start_ms: 11750\n end_ms: 16550\n- text: But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16550\n end_ms: 23280\n- text: I know it glows, but it's cold\n start_ms: 23280\n end_ms: 28740\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 28740\n end_ms: 60650\n- text: Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n start_ms: 60650\n end_ms: 63590\n- text: The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n start_ms: 63590\n end_ms: 66620\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 66620\n end_ms: 69580\n- text: The gang violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 69580\n end_ms: 72730\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 72730\n end_ms: 75080\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 75080\n end_ms: 78250\n- text: The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n start_ms: 78250\n end_ms: 81230\n- text: They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81230\n end_ms: 83970\n- text: The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n start_ms: 83970\n end_ms: 86470\n- text: Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86470\n end_ms: 89450\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89450\n end_ms: 92660\n- text: A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n start_ms: 92660\n end_ms: 95760\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95760\n end_ms: 98250\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 98250\n end_ms: 101160\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 101160\n end_ms: 103320\n- text: Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 103320\n end_ms: 106290\n- text: 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 106290\n end_ms: 109430\n- text: When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 109430\n end_ms: 113050\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 113050\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118780\n- text: You know what they don't see sometimes?\n start_ms: 118780\n end_ms: 120830\n- text: That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 120830\n end_ms: 124420\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n start_ms: 124420\n end_ms: 132440\n- text: Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n start_ms: 132440\n end_ms: 135800\n- text: Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n start_ms: 135800\n end_ms: 138190\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 138190\n end_ms: 140980\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140980\n end_ms: 143920\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n start_ms: 143920\n end_ms: 146730\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146730\n end_ms: 149620\n- text: I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149620\n end_ms: 152510\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152510\n end_ms: 155390\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155390\n end_ms: 158310\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n start_ms: 158310\n end_ms: 161330\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161330\n end_ms: 163970\n- text: Where I come from, ain't no hope\n start_ms: 163970\n end_ms: 165350\n- text: If you was clean, then that was major\n start_ms: 165350\n end_ms: 167020\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167020\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172880\n- text: That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n start_ms: 172880\n end_ms: 175790\n- text: Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n start_ms: 175790\n end_ms: 178500\n- text: '''Cause they will hit, or we take your'\n start_ms: 178500\n end_ms: 180330\n- text: Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 180330\n end_ms: 182360\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n start_ms: 182360\n end_ms: 185160\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n start_ms: 185160\n end_ms: 187990\n- text: I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187990\n end_ms: 192610\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 192610\n end_ms: 195920\n- text: Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 195920\n end_ms: 222680\n- text: Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n start_ms: 222680\n end_ms: 224980\n- text: Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n start_ms: 224980\n end_ms: 227360\n- text: Jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227360\n end_ms: 228630\n- text: Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n start_ms: 228630\n end_ms: 230730\n- text: And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n start_ms: 230730\n end_ms: 232740\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n start_ms: 232740\n end_ms: 235070\n- text: On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 235070\n end_ms: 238350\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 238350\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows, but it's cold\n\n Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n The gang violations, hood public relations\n\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n\n When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know what they don't see sometimes?\n That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n\n I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n Where I come from, ain't no hope\n If you was clean, then that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n\n That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n 'Cause they will hit, or we take your\n Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n Jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n"},{"id":39421939,"name":"The Neighborhood (Feat. Common _ Cocaine 80s)","trackName":"The Neighborhood (Feat. Common _ Cocaine 80s)","artistName":"G Herbo AKA Lil Herb","albumName":"SLFR","duration":239.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe would trade in our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice, headed back to the light\nBut be careful, don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows, but it's cold\n\nHave you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\nThe four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThe gang violations, hood public relations\n\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\nThey the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan and terror of Bush\nCrack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n\nWhen they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know what they don't see sometimes?\nThat in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\nFozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n\nI been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\nWhere I come from, ain't no hope\nIf you was clean, then that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n\nThat's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\nYeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n'Cause they will hit, or we take your\nShorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\nI mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nInbound, forty-six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\nLake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\nJammed north through Grant Park\nTri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\nAnd St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\nOn Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.26] Thousand lives ago\n[00:02.42] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.09] We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.73] Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n[00:16.55] But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n[00:23.24] I know it glows, but it's cold\n[00:30.70] \n[01:00.68] Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n[01:03.53] The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n[01:06.62] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:09.54] The gang violations, hood public relations\n[01:12.70] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:15.08] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:18.27] The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n[01:21.22] They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:23.93] The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n[01:26.42] Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.41] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.69] A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n[01:35.71] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:38.23] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:41.17] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:43.35] Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n[01:46.22] 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:49.42] When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n[01:53.08] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.39] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.70] You know what they don't see sometimes?\n[02:00.83] That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n[02:04.46] It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n[02:12.46] Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n[02:15.89] Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n[02:18.12] Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.99] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.99] Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n[02:26.77] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.63] I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.53] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.35] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.37] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n[02:41.35] But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n[02:43.99] Where I come from, ain't no hope\n[02:45.38] If you was clean, then that was major\n[02:47.03] Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.76] No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n[02:52.80] That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n[02:55.77] Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n[02:58.58] 'Cause they will hit, or we take your\n[03:00.31] Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n[03:02.37] I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n[03:05.10] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n[03:07.95] I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:15.94] Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n[03:42.65] Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n[03:44.97] Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n[03:47.37] Jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.64] Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n[03:50.77] And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n[03:52.77] Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n[03:55.08] On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n[03:58.36] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood (Feat. Common _ Cocaine 80s)\n artist: G Herbo AKA Lil Herb\n album: SLFR\n duration_ms: 238655\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 260\n end_ms: 2420\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 2420\n end_ms: 5090\n- text: We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5090\n end_ms: 11730\n- text: Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n start_ms: 11730\n end_ms: 16550\n- text: But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16550\n end_ms: 23240\n- text: I know it glows, but it's cold\n start_ms: 23240\n end_ms: 30700\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 30700\n end_ms: 60680\n- text: Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n start_ms: 60680\n end_ms: 63530\n- text: The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n start_ms: 63530\n end_ms: 66620\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 66620\n end_ms: 69540\n- text: The gang violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 69540\n end_ms: 72700\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 72700\n end_ms: 75080\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 75080\n end_ms: 78270\n- text: The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n start_ms: 78270\n end_ms: 81220\n- text: They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81220\n end_ms: 83930\n- text: The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n start_ms: 83930\n end_ms: 86420\n- text: Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86420\n end_ms: 89410\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89410\n end_ms: 92690\n- text: A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n start_ms: 92690\n end_ms: 95710\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95710\n end_ms: 98230\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 98230\n end_ms: 101170\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 101170\n end_ms: 103350\n- text: Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 103350\n end_ms: 106220\n- text: 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 106220\n end_ms: 109420\n- text: When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 109420\n end_ms: 113080\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 113080\n end_ms: 115390\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115390\n end_ms: 118700\n- text: You know what they don't see sometimes?\n start_ms: 118700\n end_ms: 120830\n- text: That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 120830\n end_ms: 124460\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n start_ms: 124460\n end_ms: 132460\n- text: Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n start_ms: 132460\n end_ms: 135890\n- text: Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n start_ms: 135890\n end_ms: 138120\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 138120\n end_ms: 140990\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140990\n end_ms: 143990\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n start_ms: 143990\n end_ms: 146770\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146770\n end_ms: 149630\n- text: I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149630\n end_ms: 152530\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152530\n end_ms: 155350\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155350\n end_ms: 158370\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n start_ms: 158370\n end_ms: 161350\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161350\n end_ms: 163990\n- text: Where I come from, ain't no hope\n start_ms: 163990\n end_ms: 165380\n- text: If you was clean, then that was major\n start_ms: 165380\n end_ms: 167030\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167030\n end_ms: 169760\n- text: No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n start_ms: 169760\n end_ms: 172800\n- text: That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n start_ms: 172800\n end_ms: 175770\n- text: Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n start_ms: 175770\n end_ms: 178580\n- text: '''Cause they will hit, or we take your'\n start_ms: 178580\n end_ms: 180310\n- text: Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 180310\n end_ms: 182370\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n start_ms: 182370\n end_ms: 185100\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n start_ms: 185100\n end_ms: 187950\n- text: I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187950\n end_ms: 195940\n- text: Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 195940\n end_ms: 222650\n- text: Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n start_ms: 222650\n end_ms: 224970\n- text: Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n start_ms: 224970\n end_ms: 227370\n- text: Jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227370\n end_ms: 228640\n- text: Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n start_ms: 228640\n end_ms: 230770\n- text: And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n start_ms: 230770\n end_ms: 232770\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n start_ms: 232770\n end_ms: 235080\n- text: On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 235080\n end_ms: 238360\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 238360\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We would trade in our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice, headed back to the light\n But be careful, don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows, but it's cold\n\n Have you ever heard of black stone around black stones?\n The four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n The gang violations, hood public relations\n\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the tastemakers and trendsetters\n They the ones that fed us, hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan and terror of Bush\n Crack babies, mamas that push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to BBB-do-me, you heard of Flukey?\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds blindin' us, the real shit we facin'\n 40S wastin' on seats, Dion makin' the beats\n\n When they air it out at them parties, we escapin' the heat\n\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know what they don't see sometimes?\n That in the neighborhood, it's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again, you feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of No Limit, 300, 600?\n Fozzie boy, O'Block, Eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation, they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs, but everybody keep dyin'\n\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n\n I been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue wrap me up\n But they can catch me later, I been coolin', chasin' paper\n Where I come from, ain't no hope\n If you was clean, then that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mama's workin', granny raised us\n No food in the 'frigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers\n\n That's real shit, same niggas from day one, boy\n Yeah, I'm still with, better watch out for that jump shot\n 'Cause they will hit, or we take your\n Shorty lunchbox and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic, but you don't make it\n\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred\n I mean, you ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Inbound, forty-six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant, twenty-eight out, thirty-two in\n Lake Shore drives heavy south, North Avenue to Chicago\n Jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri-State heavy south, Gulf to the Bensenville Bridge\n And St. Charles to the Stevenson ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8s every ten minutes\n On Newsradio 780 and 105.9 FM\n"},{"id":38652443,"name":"The Neighborhood (feat. G Herbo & Cocaine 80s)","trackName":"The Neighborhood (feat. G Herbo & Cocaine 80s)","artistName":"Common G Herbo Cocaine 80s","albumName":"Nobody’s Smiling","duration":238.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thousand lives ago\nWe were young and we didn't know\nWe were trading our crowns for our souls\nMade the sacrifice\nHeaded back to the light\nBut be careful don't drown in the gold\nI know it glows but it's cold\n\nI'm from the other side of town\nOut of bounds\nTo anybody who don't live around\nI never learned to share or how to care\nI never had no teachings about being fair\n\nHave you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\nAnd Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\nThe concrete matrix, street organizations\nThey gave violations, hood public relations\nIt was the basics to get big faces\nStay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\nThe hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\nThey the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\nThe era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\nCrack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\nI'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\nA bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\nStokes, it was folks and coke and dope\nFiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\nRare jewels of a generation\nDiamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\nForties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\nWhen they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\nI could break it down like whatever you need\nHe squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\nYou know they don't see sometimes\nThat in the neighborhood\nIt's the exact same thing\nIt's the same thing over and over again\nFeel me?\n\nHave you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\nFolly boy, O block, eastside\nWhere it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\nCan't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\nNiggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\nUsed to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\nI've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\nFelt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\nI be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\nI know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\nBut they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\nWhere I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\nSmall crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\nNo food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\nSame niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\nBetter watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\nHomie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\nI came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\nFeds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\nYou ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\nComing inbound\nForty six minutes from 355\nJim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\nLake Shore Drive's heavy south\nNorth Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\nTri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\nGet traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.68] Thousand lives ago\n[00:03.54] We were young and we didn't know\n[00:05.99] We were trading our crowns for our souls\n[00:11.83] Made the sacrifice\n[00:13.78] Headed back to the light\n[00:16.21] But be careful don't drown in the gold\n[00:21.56] I know it glows but it's cold\n[00:27.15] I'm from the other side of town\n[00:35.96] Out of bounds\n[00:38.72] To anybody who don't live around\n[00:44.45] I never learned to share or how to care\n[00:52.53] I never had no teachings about being fair\n[01:00.92] Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n[01:03.04] And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n[01:05.20] The concrete matrix, street organizations\n[01:08.20] They gave violations, hood public relations\n[01:11.82] It was the basics to get big faces\n[01:14.82] Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n[01:17.93] The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n[01:21.00] They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n[01:24.18] The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n[01:26.37] Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n[01:29.25] I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n[01:32.10] A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n[01:35.13] Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n[01:37.94] Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n[01:40.86] Rare jewels of a generation\n[01:42.89] Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n[01:45.88] Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n[01:48.80] When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n[01:52.39] I could break it down like whatever you need\n[01:55.26] He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n[01:58.54] You know they don't see sometimes\n[02:00.39] That in the neighborhood\n[02:02.19] It's the exact same thing\n[02:04.93] It's the same thing over and over again\n[02:07.60] Feel me?\n[02:12.86] Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n[02:15.50] Folly boy, O block, eastside\n[02:17.47] Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n[02:20.79] Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n[02:23.75] Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n[02:26.60] Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n[02:29.31] I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n[02:32.19] Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n[02:35.21] I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n[02:38.23] I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n[02:41.40] But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n[02:44.13] Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n[02:47.25] Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n[02:49.90] No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n[02:53.52] Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n[02:56.52] Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n[02:59.45] Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n[03:02.22] I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n[03:04.96] Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n[03:07.80] You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n[03:40.39] Coming inbound\n[03:41.85] Forty six minutes from 355\n[03:43.28] Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n[03:45.29] Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n[03:47.45] North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n[03:48.74] Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n[03:52.44] Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Neighborhood (feat. G Herbo & Cocaine 80s)\n artist: Common G Herbo Cocaine 80s\n album: Nobody’s Smiling\n duration_ms: 238000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Thousand lives ago\n start_ms: 1680\n end_ms: 3540\n- text: We were young and we didn't know\n start_ms: 3540\n end_ms: 5990\n- text: We were trading our crowns for our souls\n start_ms: 5990\n end_ms: 11830\n- text: Made the sacrifice\n start_ms: 11830\n end_ms: 13780\n- text: Headed back to the light\n start_ms: 13780\n end_ms: 16210\n- text: But be careful don't drown in the gold\n start_ms: 16210\n end_ms: 21560\n- text: I know it glows but it's cold\n start_ms: 21560\n end_ms: 27150\n- text: I'm from the other side of town\n start_ms: 27150\n end_ms: 35960\n- text: Out of bounds\n start_ms: 35960\n end_ms: 38720\n- text: To anybody who don't live around\n start_ms: 38720\n end_ms: 44450\n- text: I never learned to share or how to care\n start_ms: 44450\n end_ms: 52530\n- text: I never had no teachings about being fair\n start_ms: 52530\n end_ms: 60920\n- text: Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n start_ms: 60920\n end_ms: 63040\n- text: And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n start_ms: 63040\n end_ms: 65200\n- text: The concrete matrix, street organizations\n start_ms: 65200\n end_ms: 68200\n- text: They gave violations, hood public relations\n start_ms: 68200\n end_ms: 71820\n- text: It was the basics to get big faces\n start_ms: 71820\n end_ms: 74820\n- text: Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n start_ms: 74820\n end_ms: 77930\n- text: The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n start_ms: 77930\n end_ms: 81000\n- text: They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n start_ms: 81000\n end_ms: 84180\n- text: The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n start_ms: 84180\n end_ms: 86370\n- text: Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n start_ms: 86370\n end_ms: 89250\n- text: I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n start_ms: 89250\n end_ms: 92100\n- text: A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n start_ms: 92100\n end_ms: 95130\n- text: Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n start_ms: 95130\n end_ms: 97940\n- text: Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n start_ms: 97940\n end_ms: 100860\n- text: Rare jewels of a generation\n start_ms: 100860\n end_ms: 102890\n- text: Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n start_ms: 102890\n end_ms: 105880\n- text: Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n start_ms: 105880\n end_ms: 108800\n- text: When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n start_ms: 108800\n end_ms: 112390\n- text: I could break it down like whatever you need\n start_ms: 112390\n end_ms: 115260\n- text: He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n start_ms: 115260\n end_ms: 118540\n- text: You know they don't see sometimes\n start_ms: 118540\n end_ms: 120390\n- text: That in the neighborhood\n start_ms: 120390\n end_ms: 122190\n- text: It's the exact same thing\n start_ms: 122190\n end_ms: 124930\n- text: It's the same thing over and over again\n start_ms: 124930\n end_ms: 127600\n- text: Feel me?\n start_ms: 127600\n end_ms: 132860\n- text: Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n start_ms: 132860\n end_ms: 135500\n- text: Folly boy, O block, eastside\n start_ms: 135500\n end_ms: 137470\n- text: Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n start_ms: 137470\n end_ms: 140790\n- text: Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n start_ms: 140790\n end_ms: 143750\n- text: Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n start_ms: 143750\n end_ms: 146600\n- text: Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n start_ms: 146600\n end_ms: 149310\n- text: I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n start_ms: 149310\n end_ms: 152190\n- text: Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n start_ms: 152190\n end_ms: 155210\n- text: I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n start_ms: 155210\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161400\n- text: But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n start_ms: 161400\n end_ms: 164130\n- text: Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n start_ms: 164130\n end_ms: 167250\n- text: Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n start_ms: 167250\n end_ms: 169900\n- text: No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n start_ms: 169900\n end_ms: 173520\n- text: Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n start_ms: 173520\n end_ms: 176520\n- text: Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n start_ms: 176520\n end_ms: 179450\n- text: Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n start_ms: 179450\n end_ms: 182220\n- text: I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n start_ms: 182220\n end_ms: 184960\n- text: Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n start_ms: 184960\n end_ms: 187800\n- text: You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n start_ms: 187800\n end_ms: 220390\n- text: Coming inbound\n start_ms: 220390\n end_ms: 221850\n- text: Forty six minutes from 355\n start_ms: 221850\n end_ms: 223280\n- text: Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n start_ms: 223280\n end_ms: 225290\n- text: Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n start_ms: 225290\n end_ms: 227450\n- text: North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n start_ms: 227450\n end_ms: 228740\n- text: Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n start_ms: 228740\n end_ms: 232440\n- text: Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n start_ms: 232440\nplain: |-\n Thousand lives ago\n We were young and we didn't know\n We were trading our crowns for our souls\n Made the sacrifice\n Headed back to the light\n But be careful don't drown in the gold\n I know it glows but it's cold\n\n I'm from the other side of town\n Out of bounds\n To anybody who don't live around\n I never learned to share or how to care\n I never had no teachings about being fair\n\n Have you ever heard of Black Stone around Black Stones?\n And Four CHs, Vice Lords, Stony Island on Aces\n The concrete matrix, street organizations\n They gave violations, hood public relations\n It was the basics to get big faces\n Stay away from cases, bad broads, good graces\n The hustlers was the taste makers and trend setters\n They the ones that fed us hopin' that the feds don't get us\n The era of Reagan, the terror of Bush\n Crack babies, momma's a push, we were the products of Bush\n I'm wishin' for a Samurai Suzuki and a little Gucci\n A bad ho to bee-bee-bee do me, you heard of Flukey\n Stokes, it was folks and coke and dope\n Fiends choked off of smoke, herringbones and rope\n Rare jewels of a generation\n Diamonds, blinding us of real shit we facin'\n Forties wasted on 'ceased, Dion makin' the beats\n When they air it out on at the parties we escapin' the heat\n I could break it down like whatever you need\n He squinted his face and rolled the weed\n\n You know they don't see sometimes\n That in the neighborhood\n It's the exact same thing\n It's the same thing over and over again\n Feel me?\n\n Have you ever heard of no limit, three hundred, six hundred?\n Folly boy, O block, eastside\n Where it ain't no conversation they just let them heats ride\n Can't nobody stop the violence, why my city keep lyin'?\n Niggas throw up peace signs but everybody keep dying\n Used to post up on that strip, I look like a street sign\n I've been out there three days and I got shot at three times\n Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each nine\n I be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind\n I know haters wanna clap me up, watch the morgue grab me up\n But they can catch me later, I been cool, chasin' paper\n Where I come from ain't no hope if you was claimin' that was major\n Small crib, big fam, mom was workin', granny raised us\n No food in the refrigerator, I was bangin', pullin' capers, that's real shit\n Same niggas from day one boy, yeah I'm still with\n Better watch out for that jump shot cause they will hit\n Homie take your shorty lunchbox, and won't feel shit\n I came from a place where it's basic but you won't make it\n Feds buildin' cases, judges who racist and full of hatred I mean\n You ain't never seen the shit that I seen\n\n Coming inbound\n Forty six minutes from 355\n Jim Bryant's twenty eight out, thirty two in\n Lake Shore Drive's heavy south\n North Avenue to Chicago, jammed north through Grant Park\n Tri State heavy south gulf to the Bensenville Bridge and St. Charles to the Stevenson Ramp\n Get traffic and weather together on the 8's every ten minutes on News Radio, 780 and 105.9 FM\n"}]