| When thugs cry.
|
| Now I lay me down to sleep
|
| I pray the Lord my guns to keep
|
| If I die before I wake
|
| I pray the Lord my soul to take
|
| Got us dying; |
| when thugs cry, times is hard
|
| Born thuggin and lovin the way I came up Big money clutchin, bustin while evadin cocaine busts
|
| My pulse rushin, semi clutchin into insanity
|
| They shot at my cousin, now we bustin at they whole family
|
| The coppers wanna see me buried, I ain’t worried
|
| I got a line on the D.A. |
| cause I’m fuckin his secretary
|
| I black out and start cussin, bust 'em and touch 'em all
|
| They panic and bitches duckin, I rush 'em and fuck 'em all
|
| I’ll probably be an old man before I understand
|
| why I had to live my life with pistols close at hand
|
| Kidnapped my homey’s sister, cut her face up bad
|
| They even raped her so we blazed they pad
|
| Automatic shots rang out, on every block
|
| They puttin hits out on politicians, even cops, I ain’t lyin
|
| They got me sleepin with my infrared beams
|
| And in my dreams I hear motherfuckers screamin
|
| What is the meaning, when thugs cry?
|
| Oh why, should you send your child off to die
|
| In the streets of chalk where they lie
|
| Let no wrongs cry out when thugs cry
|
| Dear God.
|
| Oh why, does it have to be this way, our
|
| children of today won’t stay wise
|
| Let the children hear when thugs cry
|
| Dear God. |
| oh why.
|
| Heh. |
| maybe my addiction to friction got me buggin
|
| Where is the love? |
| Never quit my ambition to thug
|
| Ain’t shed a tear since the old school years of elementary
|
| Niggaz I used to love, enclosed in penitentiaries
|
| But still homey keep it real, how does it feel
|
| to lose your life, over somethin that you did as a kid?
|
| You all alone, no communication, block on the phone
|
| Don’t get along with yo’pop, and plus your moms is gone
|
| Where did we go wrong? |
| I put my soul in the song
|
| to help us grow in time, but now our minds are gone
|
| We went from brothers and sisters, to niggaz and bitches
|
| We went from welfare livin, to worldwide riches
|
| But somethin changed in this dirty game, everything’s strange
|
| Lost all my homies over cocaine. |
| mayne
|
| See they ask me if I shed a tear, I ain’t lie
|
| See you gotta get high or die, cause even thugs cry
|
| And all I see is these paranoid bitches, illegal adventures
|
| Bustin motherfuckers with uppercuts, I leave 'em with dentures
|
| Cause in my criminal mind, nobody violates the Don
|
| I write your name on a piece of paper, now your family’s gone
|
| Why perpetrate like you can handle my team?
|
| So merciless in my attack I take command of your dreams
|
| Leavin motherfuckers drownin in they own blood
|
| Clownin takin pictures later
|
| Laugh bout the punk bitches, that turned snitches
|
| Regulate my area, the terror I represent
|
| Makin yo’people disappear, you wonderin where they went?
|
| Am I cold or is it just I sold my soul?
|
| Addicted to these streets, never find true peace I’m told
|
| Come take my body God, don’t let me suffer any longer
|
| Smoke a pound of marijuana, so I know it ain’t long
|
| Where is the end to all my misery, is there a close?
|
| I suppose that’s why I murder my foes, when thugs cry
|
| I shed tattooed tears for years
|
| for my dead homeboys and my prison peers
|
| Y’all ain’t never heard my cries
|
| Now you wonder why would you die? |