Siba Giba
Cause where I’m from they always got your back
L.E.S. The foundation. New York where you at.
NYC, nineteen eighty, infested with crack
Street cats taught me well, had to adapt
Love and respect, did we forget that in
2020, my vision, always to give back
Put in the time, grind, to refine your craft
Capital, top of the line, like paragraph.
Ladi Dadi was the first page
Lost the french accent at an early age
Kids makin' fun of me, hoods kept sonnin’ me.
Wanna keep my lunch money, shorty had to find the key.
Music & Hip-Hop, they changed my life
Mom & Pops gave me the light, Huh
Push to create, educate, to elevate
The mind set, money well spent.

Chorus (Von)
Where I’m From
The red, white and blue wave
The guns or the drug trade
A home that the streets made
Where I’m From
The red, white and blue wave
The guns or the drug trade
A home that the streets made

Von
I’m in the pocket like the paper fold
Making money on the manifold, stay gold
Grow old but remain bold, I been told
Kung fu grip, tight hold, ice cold
It’s like a battle field. Firearms body shieldsI
f you call it how you see it then you know the deal
From the Boogie, in the city where it all jumps
Spray cans, handstand to a base thump
Hard rocks, b boys on a beat box
There I am. Born and bred. Love and hip hop
F--k em all. It’s your ball and your word here
Front street get too hot for you to stand there
Ain’t that a bitch....at the door and never play fair
All they talk about is bullshit and fanfare
From what I hear, where you live got all the same shit, until you getting out
That’s why we don’t quit

Chorus (Von)
Where I’m From
The red, white and blue wave
The guns or the drug trade
A home that the streets made
Where I’m From
The red, white and blue wave
The guns or the drug trade
A home that the streets made

Kiambu
Uptown sugar hill, 45th and riverside
Sunny days in Harlem nights Afro picks and black pride
Light skinned nappy hair black boy with chinky eyes
Called me yellow Picking fights, told me that I talked white
That’s all right I know what’s right, Home life was mad tight
Loving fam had a plan Raise a boy into a man
Beef with pops beef with cops But not for selling crack rocks
Got locked five times,Good kid - Hard times
Couldn’t cry I Turned to rhymes Air it out loud and proud
I don’t fight I always win, Know the outcome going in
Lead with heart not my chin Add it up and make a blend
Balance out the yang and ying
Plant a seed and grow again

Chorus (Von Meista)
Where I’m From
The red, white and blue wave
The guns or the drug trade
A home that the streets made
Where I’m From
The red, white and blue wave
The guns or the drug trade
A home that the streets made