| Yeah… I mean, M.A.D.E, no mob shit | 
| Money, Attitude, Direction, and Education… some real | 
| Shit | 
| Think about my hood one time, my hood… it's trippin' | 
| Thinkin I’ve changed, crossed niggas | 
| Where we go wrong | 
| I’m from that two-bedroom apartment, Marcy | 
| 5−3-4, that middle building… yeah, they say it started me | 
| I’m new to it but consider me young | 
| Seen it all happen, ain’t understand what was done | 
| But, all I wanted was the fly kicks fly shit | 
| Little nigga but still kept a fly bitch | 
| And back then it was love in the hood | 
| Knuckle up with ya dog and fuck it, it’s all good | 
| Now, I’m in the crib rippin up to go to war with 'em | 
| Same little niggas I used to steal from the store with 'em | 
| I go and get 'em from school | 
| Used to take the same bus, same train back then we was cool | 
| I broke bread at lunch with 'em | 
| And if mom’s left me with two singles, then you know | 
| I’m splittin one with 'em | 
| We cut school in the building I lived in, one floor higher | 
| Smokin and gettin higher | 
| Damn, think of age, now we locked up north | 
| It was like yesterday we was practicin sports | 
| Went from flippin on mats now he flippin in the box | 
| Locked twenty-three hours up a day, he in the max | 
| Ain’t no lookin back because this life goes on | 
| We was kids didn’t care about the rights and wrongs | 
| But, nobody judged us the ghetto loved us | 
| Streets, the only thing that ever took something from us | 
| I lost a couple friends | 
| But I promised and prayed that if I make it, Im’a see 'em again | 
| I admit, I was wild as a child | 
| And my mom’s ain’t like none of my friends who use to call me Ismhael | 
| My brother stayed on punishment, mama found out he hustle and | 
| Found couple jacks, her plan she thought of flushin it | 
| Me, I’m in the streets I swore, never change | 
| My brother caught a case, I came up, won’t do the same | 
| It’s all about my days, this is all about my nights | 
| This is all about my pain, this is all about my life | 
| I got my first work, about the age of fourteen | 
| My brother fighting a case his bail was fourteen | 
| Me, still hustlin, school not going | 
| My clothes started changin, the money started showin | 
| My right hand was owing every ho we know | 
| She represent us through the ghetto every hood we know | 
| He put me on on that traffic, though the money was average | 
| I ain’t care I learned how to handle that package | 
| Then, a body dropped, O locked for minute | 
| The squad it never died, I was left to represent it | 
| Took a nigga out his crib his name I ain’t gon' mention it | 
| Know this hit home, I know this nigga listenin | 
| Cause we was tighter than brothers where did the love go | 
| I called your mother my mom’s dog, I let the love show | 
| This was supposed to be us | 
| You was supposed to have the next verse dog, this was supposed to be us | 
| And, you know I taught you the streets, taught you to pitch in | 
| I gave you that gear got you all the bitches | 
| I never thought you ever cross me dog | 
| If they back me down in the corner, get 'em off me dog | 
| Now I see exactly where we went wrong | 
| When I spin through the hood and I see him, I keep it goin | 
| Now the ghetto lookin at me like I changed | 
| But, I’m still that regular nigga I’m still the same |