| All the youngins in my hood popping percs now
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| Gettin' high they get by, it’s gettin' worse now
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| You gotta tell 'em put them guns and the percs down
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| Them new jails got ten yards in 'em and that’s your first down, uh
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| And I ain’t come here to preach
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| I just had to say somethin' 'cause I’m the one with the reach
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| Youngin' gotta quarter ounce, he tryna turn into Meech
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| Ain’t had no daddy, he’s had to learn from the streets
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| I used to be a honor roll student, damn
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| Then I turned to a beast
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| The first time I seen a nigga get some blood on his sneaks
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| He had on Air Max 93s but was slumped in the street
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| His mama cryin', that there’s a sign to me, oh Lord
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| The shit I’m doin' for my hood I won’t get an Award
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| I used to sell Reggie, damn how' I get to the Forbes
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| I take a shot if I miss I’m gettin' on boards
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| Ain’t quittin' no more, like give me some more
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| We went Old Navy it felt like Christian Dior
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| Was dead broke but rich in soul, was we really that poor?
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| Was we really that dumb? |
| 'Cause we carry a gun
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| And every nigga in my neighborhood carryin' one
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| 'Cause we had nightmares of our mamas got to bury her son
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| I’m speakin' to you as a prophet as rare as they come, uh
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| Gunshots sound like music hangin' out the Buick
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| Why you wanna be a shooter?
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| Mama told me not to do it but I did it
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| Now I’m locked up in a prison
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| Callin' mama like I shouldn’t have did it
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| Watch my dream shatter in an instant
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| I’m on a visit posin' for the picture
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| Like I’m going for my prom or somethin'
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| Like I ain’t facing time or somethin'
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| Ride for these niggas like that shit ain’t hurt my mom or somethin'
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| Only one gon' get me commissary or even buy me somethin'
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| When it all fall down
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| I can call y’all now
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| Even if I hit your phone
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| That won’t get me home
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| Seen so many different times, these niggas did me wrong
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| Shit that’s the reason that I did this song
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| Shit we was kids used to play on the step
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| A couple years later we flirtin' with the angel of death
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| I was eleven years old, I got my hands on the Tec
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| When I first touched it that shit gave me a rush
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| My homie’s dying I’m like «Maybe we next»
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| That just made me a threat
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| Knowin' the niggas smoke my daddy it just made me upset
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| Made me a man shit I was five when God gave me my test
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| Go to court with a court apointed and he won’t say object
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| Now it’s you against the state and you ain’t got no cake
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| Jail overpopulated they ain’t got no space
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| I know a youngin' that got murked ain’t get to drive no Wraith
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| But he in hearse on the way to church, I know his mom gon' faint
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| When she smell like embalment fluid, cologne all on her baby
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| Pastor said he sendin' you home, she goin' crazy
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| When they drop that casket all in the ground, who gon' save me?
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| How could you blame me? |
| When I’m tryna stay alive and just survive and beat
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| them odds when niggas die by twenty-five
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| When I stop fearin' for my life, when I decide to change my mind And stop tokin'
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| Tryna smoke the pain away, they lock us up for smoking
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| Put 'em on probation, lock you up if you ain’t perfect
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| Victims of the system like a rain drop in the ocean
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| They closin' all the schools and all the prisons gettin' open
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| Yeah
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| See comin' from where I come from
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| We had to beat the streets
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| Beat the system, beat racism, beat poverty
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| And now we made it through all that we at the championship |