![]() ![]() ![]() Strictly just to get me off of these streets quicklyīut all they kids be listenin' to me religiously, That's why these prosecutors wanna convict me, So they can try to make you out to look like a loose cannon.Īny dispute won't hesitate to produce handguns They want you to lose your mind every time you mad To get they hands on every dime you have, ![]() Now how the Fuck did this metamorphosis happen?įrom standin' on corners and porches just rappin' īut then these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn you,įans turn on you, attorneys all want a turn at you It's like these kids hang on every single statement we make, Or they can degrate, or even worse they can teach hate I guess words are a mothafucka they can be great Yet everybody just feels like they can relate, Holy or unholy, only have one homie, only this gun, In the land of the killers, a sinner's mind is a sanctum There's no control, he just let's his emotions go.Įntertainment is changin', intertwinin' with gangstas, His step-father hit him, so he socked him backĪnd broke his nose, his house is a broken home. He sags his pants, do-rags and a stocking cap, Talkin' black, brainwashed from rock and rap His thoughts are wacked, he's mad so he's talkin' back, If he ever saw him again he'd probably knock him out When he talks about, his fuckin' dad walkin' outĬuz he just hates him so bad that he blocks him out. He's a problem child, and what bothers him all comes out, To see him walking around with his headphones blaring,Īlone in his own zone, cold and he don't care It's so scary in a house that allows no swearing Whose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings These ideas are nightmares for white parents, ![]()
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