| Imagine making it big in this rap game |
| And you think it’s all good |
| I’m here to tell you it ain’t baby |
| You got every eye in the world on you |
| You gotta understand these people fear what they don’t know |
| Imagine life with no jails and no laws |
| And no harassment on brothers in fancy cars |
| Now why they want to trap me, make me a slave |
| They just mad cause a ghetto nigga break bread |
| I’m on the ground cuffed up like a dog |
| Said my cuffs too tight, but they laugh when they see me fall |
| I guess my skins too dark for them to hear me |
| I know they don’t like me, for some reason I think they fear me |
| Quit tripping on my chains and my rangs |
| I want to hit em, but I didn’t cause I maintained |
| They got me FED’s on the scene and they sware I got the cream |
| And the stolen truck green, canine all up in my jeans |
| They don’t realize I’m a soldier |
| I had a pissed, ask your son, I know he gotta see-Murder disc |
| Number one in every record store |
| Mom and pops tap my phones, but you know I ain’t slangin' rocks |
| Take me to jail but I tell em take me off the scene |
| My first call go to P, he put my mind at ease |
| You told me not to trip cause it’s a bigger picture |
| And if your tank don’t put it on TRU, I’m a come and get ya |
| Woah, picture life without the crooked cops and without the cell blocks |
| Would you sell rocks, or would you be like me, I’m shell shocked |
| And I went through stressin' (why), cause I’m already strapped, |
| bulletproof vesting |
| Waiting to be tested by the devil on that level |
| I used to sit on the porch with my uncle Ben |
| And I watched the murder scene when I was 13, dad, why they come for me |
| And it made me crazy, and it made me lose my mind |
| And from time to time it crossed my mind |
| What if there wasn’t a crime |
| Now Slim, would you kill for me and everything that’s true for me |
| If there was no law, and nobody was superstars |
| No state trooper cars to follow, you wouldn’t have to swallow |
| Your rocks, so toss the glocks with the hollow |
| I would kill a rich man and drink his blood, would it bring me riches |
| Or would I just be selling my soul to them wicked witches |
| We already in babylon, the world is a ghetto and God is like the don, |
| nigga woah |