| Shit, sometimes man, a nigga be contemplating
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| Yo, living in fuckin' hell, nigga die, might be better
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| Walk through the shadow of death, my dick out pissing
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| Rebel, laughing at the devil, homicidal threats
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| Only if he knew, I wanna lie cold, who the fuck wanna die old
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| On this miserable earth, forever, put me in dirt
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| It’s better then living searchin treasure
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| That only brings atrocity, and treachery, baby mothers stressing me
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| Ain’t no hope left in me
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| Live everyday like it’s my last
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| Waitin' to meet my niggas that passed
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| At last I could meet Christ, ask him why the fuck you died on the cross
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| Gere these stupid motherfuckers, they still lost
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| I’ll ask Malcolm, see what it was like to fight for civil rights
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| And nights he thought he would die, what did he do
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| Did he grab his gun and a bust shot?
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| Get on my knees praise Big and go fuck with 'Pac
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| Find out did he really take 5 shots
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| Ask him, who shot ya, was it the Feds?
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| Couldn’t have been Big Poppa, Brooklyn niggas ain’t bred
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| Like that, ask Martin, why the fuck you ain’t fight back
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| If you had a choice, life or death
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| What would you choose
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| If you had a choice
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| Life ain’t real its a dream we see tomorrow
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| Reality, shit that’s pain and sorrow
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| Reality, disaster beat breaks
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| A little girl up in the projects gettin raped
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| Reality’s a nigga gettin rock shot 41 times
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| And you askin why I run from one time
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| I don’t even get justice
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| Nigga sometimes, no times, oh I’m bout to lose my mind
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| Reality’s fucked up, like a hard workin mother, losing her job
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| The battle of good and evil
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| Like the devil, ain’t losing for god, we on lucifer’s squad
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| Not knowing what the fuck it all mean
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| I can’t even, get a can of sardines
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| Niggas driving bentley’s, burning money, I’m yearnin money
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| Taking your shit, I’m earning money
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| Yet you call me a thief I call me a broke nigga trying to eat
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| On this earth suffering, why its like that
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| Guess we the punished, blame Adam and Eve
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| If you had a choice
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| Hold your latex, from nuns I take sex
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| Play chess, with the devil from the sky
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| Like rain shells drop immune to this cold world’s sorrow
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| Beyond shell shock, can’t you tell pop, I need some help ox
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| See them meadow officers watchin' myself rot
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| Ice pick and cell blocks
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| Hope the 12 stop on the highway to hell, switchin lanes
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| Niggas that know, what I mean to suffer and struggle in the gutter
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| Slice birthday cakes with box cutters
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| I did not stutter, you heard me this is utter, reality
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| Observe me, on a journey puttin niggas on gurneys till I meet my maker
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| In the name of Amadu Diallo, Fuck Guiliani and Howard Seiffler!!! |
| c’mon
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| If you had a choice |