| Yeah… you know.
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| Aight… yo.
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| Knowimsayin, let me walk through the yards… yo.
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| Let me walk you through the yards where life is truly hard
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| On the pathway, from a disease that ashtray
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| All day, we on the grind like Monday
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| Just let me smoke my insence, life is intense
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| Like the Black Day in July.
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| Excuse me, mam, I’m just try’nna get by Just try’nna get past these souls that fly
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| Like the bullets down my way, hoes around my way
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| Souls is drowing in the dead sea of sex and Alize
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| Look out for the dead children, maybe you’ll find hope
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| Sitting in the building, around a plate of that coke
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| Damage your mammo-grammy, we see what’s in your heart
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| On the road to nowhere, the boulevard; |
| Rosa Parks
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| Those are sharks, wake up, cause the jakes up Just try’nna reach for his goal, he reach for his gun
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| It ain’t no Tums when the heart burns like the sun
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| Tears for the whine, sims, this can’t be life
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| Flowers for sale, half off the funeral price
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| Rock skip accross lungs, family are stunned
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| Good morning, the flute plays my song of sorrow
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| Today we got hope, but what about tomorrow?
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| Good afternoon, still blast the same tune
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| Good evening, thief Steve was his demon
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| He came screaming, like «Blaow! |
| Nigga fuck ya life»
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| Good night, sometimes hell seems kinda nice
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| She came tears, screaming, like why they take his life?
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| Kissed his forehead in the coffin, good night
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| Float through the day, like heroin in the veins
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| Of a mad sinner, from whiskey to a bad liver
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| It’s mad different, when he trying on my shoes
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| Maybe they learn in turn, that I don’t wanna breathe booze
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| And they don’t wanna sell birds, bricks &bodily germs
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| Just try’nna reach our goals, so we reach for what burns
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| And I probably know I’m wrong, but it’s the same old song
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| On the radio playlist, how the sales made him famous
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| And you probably wouldn’t see us, just as niggaz &felons
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| Maybe you’ll find promise in a box of ego talents
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| Maybe you’ll see dreams in the eyes of the fiends
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| And the tray green for green, is the best way, it seems
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| Now we ain’t say we innocent, angels, or preacher’s sons
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| But you slap my hand away whenever I reach for funds
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| Anger and pain, take a bang of the George brain
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| On the train to nothingness, with wilther mere dreams
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| It ain’t no time, when freedom is on the clock
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| You’ll either join your sports team or I’ll bench press a glock
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| Good morning, I guess we never broke the slavery bonds
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| Cause I came out the precint with the same chains on Good afternoon, I’m still laughing at the moon
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| Good evening, we all poured our liquor out grieving
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| Poured our liquor grieving.
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| Psalm pulled a pipe, like wait, I love life
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| Good night, sometimes you die after you see the light
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| He shot to the side like last night’s dice
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| Missed the man on purpose, cause he regained his sight
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| Psalm pulled a pipe, like wait, I love life
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| Good night, sometimes you die after you see the light
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| He shot to the side like Antonio McDyess
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| Missed the man on purpose, cause he regained his sight
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| And that’s how it goes, when it goes how it goes. |