| Psssshh, I guess niggas don’t realize a good thing til it’s gone | 
| You know what I’m sayin man? | 
| Running around in these streets trickin, shit’s hard man | 
| You know? | 
| But sometimes man | 
| Fools be bringin that shit on they god damn self | 
| Nappy headed nigga stigmatism at birth | 
| Born to a family of four and so that makes me one-fourth | 
| Of a dysfunctional home | 
| I had a father who only stayed to see me grown | 
| When I turned twelve he was gone | 
| Alone, no role model | 
| I used to watch my Granddaddy and Uncle hit the bottle | 
| And then hit each other | 
| Granddaddy beat Grandmother, but that’s before my time | 
| But I still see how it affected her mind | 
| As a child I introverted, and drew pictures | 
| While my mother prayed to Jesus reading King James scriptures | 
| She used to take me to church so I could put money in the basket | 
| Tell the preacher how she used to get her ass kicked | 
| And me, I mastered the art of hatred | 
| After pops left ran with my niggas tryin to take shit | 
| Petty theft, I got caught a few times, but bust it | 
| Life is a bitch so fuck it | 
| In eighty-one I remember the night | 
| I covered myself with baby powder, so my black ass could be light | 
| Cause God is white, and Bo Derek is a ten | 
| I hate my black skin, it’s just a sin to be a nigga | 
| Then again, I’m like the Frenchman, cause Granny’s creole | 
| And therefore, we’re black French people | 
| So I think it’s best if I go to Catholic school | 
| And study under nuns and then I’ll be a Catholic fool | 
| Cause none of these courts want none of us up | 
| And don’t none want to see none of us live to be adults, sheeit | 
| No wonder brothers take lives for red and blue | 
| It’s the evil that men do | 
| But every nigga on my block can’t stop | 
| And it won’t stop | 
| And it don’t stop | 
| But every nigga on my block can’t stop | 
| And it won’t stop | 
| And it don’t stop | 
| But every nigga on my block can’t stop | 
| And it won’t stop | 
| And it don’t stop | 
| But every nigga on my block can’t stop | 
| And it won’t stop | 
| And it don’t stop | 
| Nigga, nigga wake yo' punk ass up nigga! | 
| Nigga *smack* *smack* wake yo', wake yo' punk ass up! | 
| *siren* | 
| (Where the fuck we at?) *helicopter* | 
| Nigga, one time nigga | 
| (Man I feel strange man, and I’m fin to go man) | 
| Shit, I’mma get you out, shit, bitches man) | 
| (Fuck that shit man, nigga what the fuck am I gonna do man?) *siren* | 
| We go make another gold LP nigga stop trippin nigga | 
| Nigga we own a gold LP, nigga stop trippin! | 
| By the time I hit adolescence and found hair on my nuts | 
| I grew twelve inches so now it’s time to fuck sluts | 
| Never respected women, just had to keep my dick wet | 
| Fucked this virgin named Lena, I made a bet | 
| With my homies I could hit it first, then kicked her to the curb | 
| Til next year, I got a call from my man Kurt | 
| Since I never used jims I left a seed in the Earth | 
| That left a nigga feelin like dirt | 
| Cause now I’m a father, and got a two-week old daughter | 
| Ironically, don’t even know her name it’s a damn shame | 
| And ol girl never told me she was havin my baby | 
| The more I thought about, she fuckin played me | 
| Cause the family’s lookin at me like I raped her | 
| Plus with another fuckin mouth to feed I need paper | 
| Did a caper, and took my Guinness Stout to the head | 
| September 1990, drunk drivin, the light turned red | 
| Somebody hit from the rear, I hit the brakes | 
| Then lost control of the steering wheel | 
| Hit a black Camaro and that’s all I remember that night | 
| I woke up to a 5−0 flashlight | 
| The car that I hit had exploded on impact | 
| One woman escaped, but the driver was trapped, he burned to death | 
| Manslaughter, off to C-Y-A | 
| Liftin weights in the yard and playin spades all day | 
| Now I’m eighteen, hit the County in the mix | 
| «Name and last three!» | 
| Austin, oh-six-six | 
| By now Grandpa went crazy and my Uncle had died | 
| And me I’m at the ranch makin pruno in Wayside | 
| In ninety-three, I got probation | 
| Searchin for an occupation, cause now I’m payin restitution, confusion | 
| I’m lookin at myself and seein every other nigga I knew | 
| It’s the evil that men do | 
| But every nigga on my block can’t stop | 
| And it won’t stop | 
| And it don’t stop | 
| But every nigga on my block can’t stop | 
| And it won’t stop | 
| And it don’t stop | 
| But every nigga on my block can’t stop | 
| And it won’t stop | 
| And it don’t stop | 
| But every nigga on my block can’t stop | 
| And it won’t stop | 
| And it don’t stop |