| Yea, this is where the |
| Yea, this is where the fathers ain’t living |
| At least not with us |
| Might see em round the city and won’t even say wassup |
| When niggas play tough, won’t even smile in mirrors |
| And we learn to fuck hoes off trial and error |
| Just a small time nigga, big city hustle |
| Glued to the TV, Jigga, Diddy, Russell |
| These were our heroes, strictly for them zero’s |
| For that Robert Deniro, niggas reload on them kilo’s |
| Dodgin them people, |
| Mad at myself cause I done seen some things that I’d rather not tell |
| Shawty smole crack and her boyfriend too |
| Sometimes he touch her daughter like them boyfriends do |
| Pull up to the club where the boys went too |
| See that yellow tape and the boys in blue |
| A nigga on a strecther and though I never met ya |
| I’m thinking God Bless ya, they city try and get ya |
| Man, don’t let the city get ya |
| Fuck the horoscopes, know the ropes lke a wrestler |
| If them bullets wet ya bet ya momma need a tissue |
| Your face on the front of our shirts saying we miss ya |
| (We miss ya) |
| Come with me, |
| Run quick see, what do we have here |
| Now, do you wanna ride or die |
| La dadada, la la la la |
| Come with me, |
| Run quick see, what do we have here |
| Now, do you wanna ride or die |
| La dadada, la la la la |
| Yea, let’s see God |
| I know you only do what’s best for me |
| But is it cool if we negotiate my destiny |
| They always tellin' me it’s temporary |
| Than why it’s feelling like a cemetary |
| My dreams ain’t got no obituaries |
| My city hurting and none of us were equiped here |
| You heard me say I was ballin' |
| I probably make tears |
| I’m trying to get clear |
| I’m tryna quit fear |
| Who wrote the scripts here |
| These kids live there whole life just killing time |
| Running the race with no finish line |
| They tryna noose us with they ropes |
| But I’m tryna climb |
| I think my foolish pride might become my suicide |
| But I ain’t tryna go, no baby |
| And through these lines and quotes you gotta find some hope |
| Cause I ain’t dying |
| My words gon' last forever, |
| You can hold the treasure |
| Look inside you can see a diamond in my mind |
| I’m tired of seeing dope fiends, wiping they nose clean |
| Is my neighbourhood just a smoke screen |
| I think I’m in the Dungeon Fam, I see lo green |
| Sons raised by bo queens but there’s no kings |
| (No kings, no kings) |
| Come with me, |
| Run quick see, what do we have here |
| Now, do you wanna ride or die |
| La dadada, la la la la |
| Come with me, |
| Run quick see, what do we have here |
| Now, do you wanna ride or die |
| La dadada, la la la la |
| It seems like niggas either feel ya or they try and kill ya |
| I face the sky and hope to God ain’t acting unfamiliar |
| You play whatever cards he deal no matter how peculiar |
| They tell me that it’s God’s will, I’m asking God will ya |
| Heal a nigga from all this pain, momma smoking cocaine as it rains out |
| Am I to blame, try to stay sane so I came out-side |
| Where they rock with them thangs out |
| To clear my mind at the same time they blew that boys brains out |
| But will it change, it’s like niggas is free but our minds still in the chains |
| Brothers killing eachother, the blood spill it’s a shame |
| Will it ever slow up |
| Alot of niggas getting older but they never grow up |
| And do they son’s like they fathers did and never show up |
| Don’t even cry about it, just another episode of life |
| Watch the season nigga no re-runs |
| The devil buying soul’s nigga no refunds |
| Man, don’t let the city get ya |
| Fuck the horoscopes know the ropes like a wrestler |
| If them bullets wet ya bet ya momma need a tissue |
| Your face on the front of our shirts screaming we miss ya |
| Another day, another song, a mother prays |
| Another gone |
| But still we play like ain’t nothing wrong |
| Like ain’t nothing wrong |
| Cause ain’t nothing wrong |
| I’m not as fast, I’m not as tall |
| But before I pass |
| I gotta ball |
| I gotta ball |
| I gotta ball |
| Nigga I gotta ball |