| May life be a trip I never knew, things could ever get bad
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| As I got no love my 17 shot Glock, with extra clips
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| That’s it, I’m going all out and if I die then remember me
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| Cause in these last days, I’m feeling like I’ma hit the Penitentiary
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| For real, trying to deal with this every day struggle
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| You got to get up, up off your rump baby and hustle
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| I tussle, work my muscle and boss hog
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| Take what’s mine, and still screaming fuck y’all
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| If I can’t ball, they better lock me up
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| Shackled down hand cuffed, on sight I’ma bust
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| What’s up where your nuts, I get rushed to the head
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| Thug for life, motherfucker till I’m dead
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| Mr. 3−2, boss of all bosses
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| And I ain’t, tolerating no losses
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| And no excuses, cause this world is so shife
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| Street Game forever, and it’s like that for life nigga
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| Will I ever, see the stage again
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| Radio D.J.s, gon respect my rhythm
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| Feeling like I’m finna, hit the Penn again
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| What will I do, for food
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| Living in the ghetto, turning boys to men
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| Crooked cops and killers, interrupt my mission
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| Tell me will I ever, pimp my pen again
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| Hustling, is all I can do
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| I was born on a fucked up day, had to be holidays
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| With nothing but frowns on my face, the sadness brought madness
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| To a family that was built, unconsciencely I love em
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| But some consciencely, running these streets living constantly
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| It’s costing me, way too much
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| But the slums got me, jacking niggas work something
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| Seclude, before I hurt something
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| Inhale exhale, ok
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| I promise things gon get better, just give me one more day
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| So I can work my jelly spread, to love around
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| So I can tote my shit and hurt my belly, but trying to stay down
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| Stay focused on what I’m trying to accomplish, and not be accomplice
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| Stay real stay true pay dues, and don’t become a victim of some mob shit
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| I never let this misery, push me to do something that I regret
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| But just notice you in danger, I want you to feel my anger
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| And if I ever feel like I’m danger, I’ma empty the chamber oooh
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| These motherfuckers want me dead, at least that’s how it seems to be
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| An army of motherfuckers, against me Dean and E
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| Who you gone call, when my commratery come down like rain
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| Nothing but revenge to keep me sane, it ain’t nothing like pain
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| Cause when I squeeze it then you bleed, satisfaction is guaranteed
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| Black hearted ever since the first murder, off precious is my breed
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| Enemies fuck all my foes, fuck all my friends
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| Unless I’m in the Penn, I’ve got nobody to call my kin
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| Cause all the real niggas, are dead or in jail
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| But I’ve been left to struggle for success, trying to get a check from
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| Southwest Wholesale
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| Look at all the 16's that I’ve wrecked, and I’m practically poor
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| On top of that I’m homeless, my niggas don’t want me no more
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| Fuck pretending get in, these motherfuckers act like they don’t know my face
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| Better remember I’m quick to click and hit, don’t act like you don’t know my
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| pace
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| Well fuck rapping, I need some right now money it’s getting crucial
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| If I pimp my pen, I gotta wait 3 months for trading scraps for lunch money
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| Monday night, the sirens seemed so loud
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| I hope, that I can lose this crowd
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| Lately, it go down that way
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| That’s why a nigga, quick to get the K and spray
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| We could of been, so throwed together
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| But because I was short, it’s on my cheddar
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| I haaaad to get up and bleed the block, and it don’t stop |