| I believe in dead
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| They’re dead on arrival ‘cause in the projects it’s a part of survival
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| That’s a problem, got a lot of reasons
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| ‘Cause like every day feels like drive-by season
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| Prostitution and drug abusin'
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| No wonder why my city is in so much confusion
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| Then I thought about getting a job
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| Oh, hell no, I’d rather roll with the hit squad
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| And if you get the picture then frame it
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| ‘Cause Black C is constantly running game, bitch
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| And that’s the way it’s gon' be
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| When you’re growing up in the SFC
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| And I tell this shit like it’s supposed to be told
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| ‘Cause I learned this game on Harbor Road
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| And now the funk of the funkest
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| So when it comes to shooting this gift, bitch, you know this
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| So step with caution
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| ‘Cause niggas like playing the role of the boss and
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| Big time players, but are squares, so niggas beware
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| Black C is taking you through these motions
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| And I’m going deeper than a muthafuckin' ocean
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| So listen and take heed
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| ‘Cause it’s the way of survival in the SFC
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| Back in my environment, you see niggas, bitches, and queers
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| Whenever Church chills at the pier
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| See unity—but now in Frisco, it’s straight violence, see
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| You can’t go across town
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| And if you do, don’t let your guard down
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| Or better yet, don’t get caught slippin'
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| ‘Cause niggas my age is doing the peelin'
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| That’s 18, with a gangsta lean
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| I sell dope, ‘cause I never had dreams
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| Or admirations
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| But best believe, I’ll fuck your bitch in different ways and
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| I’m just a knucklehead from the streets
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| All I want is a mic and some of that funky ass beat
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| With a bumpin' bassline
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| And my ticket out the game is to write this sick rhyme
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| To the white man, I’m an endangered species
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| That’s why they always wanna search and seize me
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| But if they don’t find nothin' they always wanna put somethin'
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| To keep me jumpin' from place to place, from jail to jail
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| And if I die, is it heaven or hell?
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| And this shit got me fed up
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| So Mr. Cee in the 9-deuce gotta keep his head up
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| And since I’m Black, that makes me liable
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| So I stay on the under, for a part of survival
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| Black C, down with the RBL Posse
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| For you hoes that wanna jock me
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| I’m one nigga that come outta Frisco
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| That don’t like pussy that smell like fish, so
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| And pussy is one damn thing
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| When I fuck, I make sure it’s clean
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| That’s my job before I lay down wit’cha
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| Before my dick’s gonna enter
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| I’m gonna make sure it’s cool for the sex
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| And I didn’t forget my lubricated latex
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| Now it’s on, pussy is in place
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| And my dick’s in her face
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| Suck my dick so I can start strokin'
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| And I don’t eat pussy ‘cause I ain’t from Oakland
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| And sex is my very best
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| ‘Cause I’ll put that cock through the test
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| Most niggas try to act real boldly
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| And end it with as I die slowly
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| I’ll have my jimmy on arrival
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| It’s the only way of survival
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| How you gon' say what you don’t know
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| And lead where you don’t go?
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| Can’t simp, for any hoe
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| And you gotta be real when you living in Frisco
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| That’s what an HP OG told me
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| Plus, watch everyone that says they’re your homie
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| And if you don’t you might get your cap peeled
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| ‘Cause all this turf shit got niggas actin' ill
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| And for that girl that you call, that you’re caring
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| Watch out ‘cause she and a nigga might be sharing
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| So kick back and let my knowledge hit ya
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| ‘Cause if hate don’t kill ya, love’s gonna get’cha
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| This shit is real
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| So keep your ass out the game if you don’t know the deal
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| Niggas keep slippin' on their own high
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| And now they’re living like Tales from the Crackside
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| It’s problems that we all face
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| So have a clear head and keep away from the base
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| Mind your own, that’s how I figured
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| Shoot first and you won’t get smoked by a nigga
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| A public message to you from Kyle
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| Sharing a peace, or a part of survival |