| As I scratch the last days of the calendar
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| Niggas roam the streets with heavy metal like metallica
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| Pistols with the silencers
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| Killin solidiers softly
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| The crime pays a little but the consequence is costly
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| My cousin, I love em we go back in the days
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| But now he struggle with the monkey and he trapped in a maze
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| I still care for him
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| To tell the truth I’m kinda scared for him
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| Cause when he conscience he in rare form
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| But that’s the story of his life gettin locked up or shot up
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| Or in somebodys kitchen on the block cookin rocks up
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| I think he lost hope when he seen them lock his pops up
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| Or when he seen his sister baby father get his knot bust
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| My grandmother complain and tell him make a change
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| But her thinkin is outdated she can’t understand the game
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| Shyeah, hard time three to nine in a jailhouse
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| Is no different from slavin nine to five in a warehouse
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| There’s a lot of shit goin on up in my hood
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| I thank god I’m alive oh and I’m a knock on wood
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| Yea he go and walk through the valley of death
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| I know the lord got my back with every step
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| You see nothing here surprises me
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| I got a whole lotta soldiers down to ride with me
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| But lord please give me something to hold on to
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| Something to hold I need something to hold
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| Yo in projects shit is mad real for the youth
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| Niggas get I’ll for the loot
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| The more guns ya buss the realer your crew
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| Cats carry gats concealed in they suits
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| Whether cee-loo craps or macks gorillas may shoot
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| When the eyes meet don’t steer wrong and don’t stare long
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| Cause niggasll kill for that when they be full of heron
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| It’s like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder
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| How crews remain standin once the AKs thunder under the stun roof tops
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| Career thugs cook rocks
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| Then hit the blocks
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| To make a killin plus fame
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| Man they lovin this game
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| It’s mega action the trees stay hot like sonars
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| Shorties with fly hair-dos get dipped or play the corner
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| Summer time they shine block parties galore
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| So many soldiers die they buy a seperate forty to pour
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| I knew this kid Larry niggas thought he was poor
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| But he had cream for days ran a solid scheme with Ks
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| AKs with the banana clips, rubber handle grips
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| The same nigga that got Randal hit
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| He livin scandelous
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| He used to pop no-doz so he wouldn’t be caught sleepin
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| And he could’nteven walk around the block cause he was beefin
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| I say that to say this
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| That’s ghetto everyday shit
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| Where slugs miss chipped bricks leave scars on chicks
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| It’s kinda trife right now
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| But that’s the life right now
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| And way back it was a half assed trife like now
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| There’s a lot of shit goin on up in my hood
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| I thank god I’m alive oh and I’m a knock on wood
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| Yea he go and walk through the valley of death
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| I know the lord got my back with every step
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| You see nothing here surprises me
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| I got a whole lotta soldiers down to ride with me
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| But lord please give me something to hold on to
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| Something to hold I need something to hold
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| Peace god what’s todays math
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| To tryin to escape wrath
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| With two left feet, it’s kinda hard to walk a straight path
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| Soldiers layin in gutters from god to greed
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| My old dad left momdukes and scarred his seed
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| We all family
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| But seemingly this cats can’t stand me
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| Haters gunna hate be it a lexus or a camry
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| Understand me
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| But do the knowledge first swallow my verse
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| Which is my universe
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| God obeys no thirst
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| Fallen angels in the ghetto tradin in they wings for things
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| Semiautomatic machines with red beams
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| Street magicians convertin to crack and the cream
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| Sat back saw em turn black zack to a fiend
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| Hes a teacher
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| Had a fly daughter named lakeisha
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| If you hustle have a beeper smoke reefer ya can freak her
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| I seen her givin head inside the club behind the speaker
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| Last year she had three abortions for the preacher
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| And one miscarriage for this kid they call Harris
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| He told her that her loved her and hes moving her to paris
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| She fell for it
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| Touched her third rail for it (uh)
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| And next year she woulda been sixteen
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| Once told me that she wanted to go to god get clean
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| So she could be a role model for her brother Eugene
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| Hes a beautiful seed
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| Eight years and can’t read
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| At night his ashtma so bad he can’t breathe
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| He wants to be an astronaut
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| And fly to space but his teacher told him that he just ain’t go what it take
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| So he cried while the other kids played at lunch break
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| What will it take to raise our mindstate
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| There’s a lot of shit goin on up in my hood
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| I thank god I’m alive oh and I’m a knock on wood
|
| Yea he go and walk through the valley of death
|
| I know the lord got my back with every step
|
| You see nothing here surprises me
|
| I got a whole lotta soldiers down to ride with me
|
| But lord please give me something to hold on to
|
| Something to hold I need something to hold
|
| There’s a lot of shit goin on up in my hood
|
| I thank god I’m alive oh and I’m a knock on wood
|
| Yea he go and walk through the valley of death
|
| I know the lord got my back with every step
|
| You see nothing here surprises me
|
| I got a whole lotta soldiers down to ride with me
|
| But lord please give me something to hold on to
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| Something to hold I need something to hold |