When the dealers on the corner
got jokes about the users
(customers of the game)
Call em` bustahs and abusers
It’s all bout money; no names
When the dick-suckers in the alley
start laughing and giggle madly
that means another playa died
(bullet in the back of his head)
lost his chance to say goodbye
Hood-rat bitches, clueless witches
sell their souls for that paper
don’t care bout what you say
they do what they gotta do
when real ballas, want to play
Innocent kids, not taught to behave
sometimes steal, the things they crave
baby daddy in jail or the grave
baby momma became a drug slave
shit in the streets; a force like waves
so many little ones wishing for better days
And look at you! All you wanna do
Smoke a blunt, drink a brew or two
find a crack-head for a 5 dollar screw
you’ll die from stupid: Thought you knew?
Hood-rat drama on the day to day
sooner or latter, we all got to pay!
Thought you was that tight cat
thought you had it sweet like that
kept your pockets crazy fat…but Bruh…
Why your skin ashy like that?
Either your ass got that A.I.D.S.
or you been smoking crack!
What’s up with that…Black?
What now? Where your swag at?
Yes in deed…
You thought you had your shit together
had your chin up…thought you was better
treated folks bad and that there ain’t right
looked down your nose at people like
your shit was so damn shype
All I see is pathetic; another all day sucker
Now your ass see…how the other side suffer*