| Yeah, now we were young and reckless
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| Runnin' trenches to fundin' Benzes to hunger pains
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| Had a couple friends with them guns in vests, a couple chains
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| Man, that’s nothing to us, it’s unimpressive
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| All he wanted was a Range so he crossin' states in the Dodge Intrepid
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| His mother stressed in the hospital ‘cause her son’s in sepsis
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| Cuffed him to a bed ‘cause they shot him before he was arrested
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| Officer outside the room, we were tryna crowd in
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| But till they get a statement from ‘em, none of us allowed in
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| And they rushed him through the ER and they read him all his rights
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| Where they was finishin' with triage, the officers who shot him
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| Followed him inside a streetcar but they were undercover
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| They ain’t say they were police, nah, nah
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| But this what happens on the block too fuckin' often
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| All these cats is catchin' bodies like they jugglin' with coffins
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| The drugs that people sellin' got ‘em beefin' over corners
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| Instead of dreamin', we gon' see that corner office
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| And the way he beat them charges and he knows it too
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| Shit, so he’ll be dead inside even if he ends up pullin' through
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| And when them cops hopped out, he shot some rounds
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| ‘Cause he thought that they were tryna hunt him down
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| That’s what happen in the town man…
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| Yeah, they flood the streets with guns and flood our eyes with tears
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| Little homie 16, they got him facin' seven years
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| Because his priors, they don’t wanna try him as a minor
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| He should just be pickin' out all his majors, not locked inside
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| But the price of leather’s got us deeper than ever
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| And these hoes in love with money so they just sleep with whoever
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| When they guarantee a life that they can Instagram
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| So they gonna hit the sand that’s in Miami with Louis bags and business class
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| We livin' fast but we been dyin' quicker
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| And there ain’t gonna be no swimmin' back
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| When we drownin' when we been cryin' rivers
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| We bury people like seeds and we never gon' see ‘em grow
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| Mournin' they potential like he coulda been a CEO
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| Instead of seein', shit ain’t never gonna change
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| Because once you catch a felony, you caught up in the game
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| They don’t hire convicts at no nine to five
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| And ain’t no rehabilitation, they makin' more when we locked inside
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| The poison cheaper than the cure and they profit off the treatment
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| So they keep us sick some more, yeah
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| And fuck are y’all to tell my people they do wrong
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| When y’all fundin' came from cigarette companies all along?
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| To live life, you sellin' death
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| Young nigga’s face deteriorate off crystal meth
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| Gotta sip some lean just to go to sleep ‘cause he stressed
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| Stay high, his low self-esteem, it got him depressed
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| This whole world is a mess, need more a street sweeper to clean it up
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| Even a scared coward will squeeze a gun
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| While a real man would just beat you up
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| Kill or be killed mentality, that’s the mindset that got my people stuck
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| Caged in before you even got a chance to see your boy
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| You get your freedom up, ride around with the Mac
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| Like lay them niggas flat down like a diesel truck
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| But when you was born and raised in hell
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| It’s kinda difficult to get a evil up
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| Take it into consideration, this generation don’t see leaders much
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| Take matters into my own hands, every nigga I know wanna rap
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| All the hoes wanna pole dance, so if you slow dance
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| And you finish school, you ain’t cool, you a fool
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| That do what you see on the TV and that ain’t you
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| It’s a roadblock we gotta break through
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| No matter what you do, just stay true nigga
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| Tell yourself how you expect somebody else to love you
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| When there’s hate within, uncomfortable in your own skin
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| In the mirror, instead of seein' yourself clearer
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| This whole time, you starin' at the man you been fearin' |