| The world we live in, requires us to develop this ego
|
| It defends us from criticism and hides our insecurities
|
| And we wear this facade as a badge of pride so long
|
| That we forget what’s truly underneath
|
| It’s the points where we at our loneliest and darkest moments
|
| That it becomes apparent, there’s still, so much
|
| Dead or alive I will survive, yo I’m tried and true
|
| Trials that you get through and tribulations that’ll send you
|
| To the nuthouse, big house or dirt dig’d out of the earth
|
| And headstone just to honor your worth (just to honor your worth)
|
| Engraved with your birthdate and models poppin bottles at the bar
|
| A big car that we brawl over, the way it’s are
|
| We gettin over even classy in the Range Rover
|
| He feels threatened, protectin his thoughts as a soldier
|
| The older we grow, the more sober gets old
|
| The high, of adrenaline barely compares to modern medicine
|
| Then again if we lived like we supposed to
|
| Smokin chronic, drinkin tonic out in Acapulco, you say «Let's go»
|
| But it would probably drive us loco, enough to go postal |
| Fuck around and have a choke-hold on a local
|
| Until you see the po-po, I’d say the system definitely hope so
|
| There’s so much that’s in my soul, yo
|
| So much we need to know, so much we need to blow
|
| So much that we need to show, so much that it’s in my soul
|
| So much we need to grow, so much we’ll never fold
|
| So much that a nigga owe, so much that it’s in my soul
|
| So much… |