| There are eight million stories
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| In the naked city, choose one…
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| Yo, it’s time for a change, yo
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| All our babies is dyin from AIDS
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| Children are in the hospital
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| Cuz their moms beat them
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| In broad day on the streets
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| We got to change y’all
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| That’s how it’s goin for you
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| So here it goes, c’mon now
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| Life’s a scheme, it’s all about the cream
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| Gotta get over life and fulfill ya dreams
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| I grew up on the streets, where shit was somethin terrible
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| Drug dealers, gun slingers and fuckin rebels
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| They was out to get knees to feed seeds
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| Takin mad g’s, killin their own breed
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| Heartless to this game to get a gold chain
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| Never thinkin who they killed, skin was the same
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| It’s too lazy to realize what you’ve done
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| Here lays the brother’s dead victim’s son
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| Things break out and kids start fallin
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| When yo' kid is shot, these three Gods will start callin
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| You lost your foes and you lost your soul
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| So ya hide up in ya house cuz ya thinkin it’s the gold
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| Ah, now it’s too late, they see you down that block
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| Aimin at that head with two nines, never Glocks
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| So take up and take heed my friend
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| Because now is the time, your life will now end
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| Cuz…
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| As I stand on the corners with my friends, drinkin gin
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| Waitin for another nigga to commit a sin
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| Ah, there he goes, just walkin down the block
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| Thinkin that he’s hot cuz his Glock rock knots
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| Sprayin up shit cuz he thinks he’s the man
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| Robbin and stealin from the niggas in his Clan
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| He’s trife, when he ignite, he socks light
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| He put seven of my friends in the past life
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| Yo, I’m tired of the shit that he’s done
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| Let me call the Gods and get the gitchy gun
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| (Blaow! Blaow Blaow! Blaow!)
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| Light chunks spray all over the place (AHHHH!)
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| I seen the brother’s face, put gun to his face
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| Yo, next on the menu, from here we continue
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| A fifteen year old girl who wants to feed a fuckin kin too
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| She had big tits, long dress with slits
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| And every nigga on the block just wanted to dip
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| But what they caught was bad ways and bad decisions
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| That was one thing that the bitch forgot to mention
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| Late in the hall, sex on the wall
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| She’s havin mad fun, you catchin clams on ya balls
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| It doesn’t matter to this type of trick
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| Cuz she knew she burnt niggas, had a gun with two clips
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| She laid and prayed cuz the rent wasn’t paid
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| Till finally, one day the bitch caught the germ AIDS
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| Now she feels that she shouldn’t have done it
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| To my fuckin niggas, please weight ya fuckin garments |