Cold Streets Chronicles (Illmatic by Nas - #39)

[Verse] Basement dreams, creaky floors and shadowed schemes, Screechin' tires, sirens wailin' nightmarish screams. Concrete jungle, venom in the swipe of fangs, Survivin' be a full-time job, ain't no hobby or slang. Scrapin' for them crumbs, heart heavy as anvils, Pavement carved stories, with crimes etched in stencils. [Verse 2] Down in the alley, discarded dreams wit nowhere to rally, Sunset bleeds crimson, tales of idlein' malice. Graffiti whispers secrets, the lost souls translate, Streets speak in code, no tongues, just broken gates. Junkies huntin' dragons, in corners drugged nights draggin', Livin' on the edge, caught 'tween hope and the braggins'. [Chorus] Where the pavement splits hearts, survival be an art, Cold streets whisper, life’s coldest card game harsh. Hustlers serenade the moon, spit tales of freight cars, Music of the block orchestras the night scars.