Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song If I Could Change , by - Master P. Release date: 31.12.2004
Song language: English
If I Could Change |
| Fast livin’got me trapped in this street game |
| Before i die i hope i have a chance to make a change |
| I’m at the time in my life when a nigga ready to change |
| I’ll be dead or in jail if I don’t shake this thang |
| feel like I’m trapped in a prison, slowly waiting to die |
| it’s getting harder for my people, yet we don’t know why |
| they cuttin sistas off welfare, these kids can’t eat |
| and it’s the children like? |
| turned out by the street |
| I couldn’t see it while I was outside slangin my rocks |
| servin’death to my people, commitin the ultimate evil |
| robbin’and killin’my own kind, Lord forgive me blinded by this life of crime, God somebody hear me since the death of my momma, my life is filled with drama |
| lost both of my kids, punished for what dirt that I did |
| I can’t bring em back, so I get high to forget |
| all the mistakes that I made, that time won’t let me erase |
| I keep my head up high, but I’m stuck in this game |
| Steady checkin’myself, God help me to change |
| If I could change, I’d bring my momma back from the grave |
| I ain’t got too much trouble cause we livin’in the last days |
| crime pays, doing broads can get you AIDS, gotta wear a strap these days |
| All the time I stay high, trying to fight my stress |
| jealous fool of the world trying to put me to rest |
| last night i had a talk with my momma |
| then the cry, asking god if she’d serve a purpose before she dies |
| you can see it in my eyes, a brotha wanta slow down |
| I ain’t mad at ya daddy cause you didn’t come around |
| I’m knowing that the times is hard, but you can make it You see the opportunity, you take it but what about my little baby, I got a mouth to feed |
| But i still wanta hang on the streets and smoke weed with the O.G.'s |
| my homies rest in peace in the game |
| I don’t think you’ll ever know the pain |
| I wanta change |
| Lord know, picute me ballin |
| trapped in this ghetto with my young G’s callin |
| Henacee and weed when they bury P a quarter key, 6 G’s, when they carry me fall on my knees to no nigga |
| trapped in this hood, raised by chrome trigga |
| never had a pops, a nigga learned to slang cream |
| should have been a chemist, the way i work a triple beam |
| life, is like a page, I wanta turn |
| I wanta make a change, but Lord you let my brotha burn |
| I done seen a nigga lose his life over zurcubian stones |
| everynight, my auntie bring a nigga home |
| momma worrying cause the rent late |
| 3 strikes, my cousin’s doing time upstate |
| I sent him Camel with no filters |
| I’m in the ghetto slangin stones with staight killas, ugghh |
| I know kids that pack gats cause they bout it, bout it |
| I’m from the murder capital of the world and we rowdy, rowdy |
| is there a heaven for a gangsta, Lord put me to sleep |
| cause your best friend turn into your enemy |
| crooked cops is dirty in this shaded game |
| go on take me out the ghetto |
| I wanta make a change |
| Chorus fade out |