| But I don’t know, cause I can’t get a set of keys to the studio
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| And I know my fanbase is probably tired of me talking about the struggle
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| But since I resurrected time all the niggas don’t want to see me bubble
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| Should I murder my friends, that’s what Pac said
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| Although I clear my ruga ripping till they drop dead
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| I could a give a fuck about a buddy, he don’t really love me
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| So there ain’t no love for these niggas, there’s only love for money
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| Paranoid like a defendant at a murder trial
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| Plus I seen it everyday, but signatured in cursive style
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| Motherfuckers be tattle tailing like they taking names
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| So when they take a son they drive by I’ll be taking aim
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| Pressure to pain, are you able to maintain, where the sun don’t shine
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| On a daily basis I hear shots but H.P.D. |
| don’t mind
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| Cause they figure we’ll kill eachother by 2000 and 2
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| But fuck the streets jesus our praises due to you
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| Only if they knew, this is my life
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| This is my liiiiiiiiife
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| Surviving in the struggle, living so shife
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| This is my liiiiiiiiife
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| When will I get to bubble, living so shife
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| (Z-Ro)
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| Ain’t no waking up in the morning because I’m still awoke
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| Previous past tense events got a nigga ready to kill folks
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| But I can’t lose focus, got my heart set on heaven
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| But I was a problem child running wild, for a nigga with a mac 11
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| I keep my friends and enemies closer than a mother and daughter
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| They’ll sacrifice you like a lamb that gets slaughtered, weaker than water
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| With they woman ass ways that’s why it pays to do drivebys
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| Niggas be horizontal as I slide by
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| All night long, I’m paronoid voice mail beeping for days
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| Everytime I creep you know I creep with aks and hks
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| The motherfucking killing field is where I lay my head
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| And the place that I make my bed is where I spread my led
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| Motherfuckers be coming to get me in the middle of the night
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| But I’ma wreck his face when I put a infrared beam in the middle of his life
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| When will it ever stop, until they drop I can’t get no rest
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| Cause those that also feel me feel well to the flesh, in my life
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| (Z-Ro)
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| Can I get a little rest, cause I can’t take another test
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| Haven’t I proven myself, so why do I feel like I’m that victim
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| I’m just praying for nothing and do the lord even hear me
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| Could it be that I was too inoxicated in the words for coming out early
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| Cause I’ve lost most of my partners, I’m losing family members
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| I remember when it was love, but I’ll be lonely by the end of Decemeber
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| I’m feeling bad, but I can’t talk to my dad, cause he don’t care
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| Plus I’m missing my sister but she don’t want to treat me fare
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| All this sleeping from house to house, fucking with my dome
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| Got two album of my own, but no home
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| So picture the park bench in blood, is the night time bed
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| Ripping the whereabouts to murderers and many nights I fled
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| Practically assed out, lord forbid somebody pull some cash out
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| My reaction is to rob them, then I dash out
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| Fuck everybody, it’s all about me and my woman and child
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| Because my 9 millimeter because he helped to survive, this is my life |