| Chamberlain, he’s got it |
| Ooh-wee |
| Somebody gotta speak on it |
| Ghetto Gospel shit |
| Baby girl 16, leavin' the WIC office |
| Brother two years older, tryna make they house a brick office |
| Mama in the kitchen smoking cigarettes, shit talkin' |
| But she wonder why her son outside Crip walkin' |
| He supposed to be in college right now, footballin' |
| Studyin' for finals but he worried about the Blood callin' |
| Baby girl pregnant, still smokin', guess the drugs callin' |
| She ain’t got no guidance 'cause her mama out her club walkin' |
| Jumping bar to bar just like her son, she out here plug stalkin' |
| Hopin' a rich nigga want that pussy so she can slick-talk him |
| Make a couple zips off him, then go and pay her rent off him |
| Meanwhile her son out here robbing for weed and pink dolphin |
| Baby girl still book-smart so her friends cheat off her |
| She tryna keep the bullies cool, she heard the football team talkin' |
| Only pregnant girl at school, she tryna keep the heat off her |
| Counselor say that it’s gon' be okay but she just sweet talkin' |
| She don’t know that her baby daddy grown, he out here white chalkin' |
| Or it could be this other lil' young nigga she used to see often |
| Whole time the grown nigga she was fucking is her brother partner |
| And if her brother find out, she know he grabbin' choppers |
| Hatred stickers on her locker, «Pregnant bitch, you a thot» |
| She ball it up, don’t shed no tears and keep her head held high |
| She walk in the house and her mama sleepin' with the pressed pill guy |
| She fuckin' for handlebars while her son riding the smokers' cars |
| Selling crack like candy bars, servin' weed like dealing cards |
| Banging C’s and gang wars, he rockin' hard like twelve guitars |
| He was known to beat the odds until his whole life paused |
| When them Bloods slid by and the bullet hit his jaw |
| Shots on front and side the car, hospital rushin', wasn’t far |
| His partner with him had to drive, he fainted twice, seein' stars |
| Made it to the ER, survived with a broken, punctured jaw |
| His sister came to see him but his mama still at the bar |
| Four months later the baby born and it look like his boy |
| His face done kinda healed but his nephew face ain’t bringin' him no joy |
| His sister finally came out and said the baby daddy’s Roy |
| The mama say she knew but now the brother wanna kill his boy |
| This nigga 19 and tryna play his sister like a toy |
| He know his sister underaged, in school, she ain’t no Almond Joy |
| Without no hesitation, he went left and pulled up straight on Roy |
| Pistol-whipped him twice and told him, «Why you fuck my sister, boy?» |
| Roy was like, «I saved your life, cuz, you know what it was |
| Your sister came around me on them drugs, you know what that does |
| We only hit once, it was off a buzz, and I’m sorry, cuz |
| But I was the one that took you to the hospital when you was drippin' blood» |
| Brother mind racing, should he put his partner in the mud? |
| But who gon' raise his baby, this shit crazy how you did me, cuz |
| Mama out here lazy, grandbaby gon' be stiff as us |
| And he growin' quick as us, gon' see the same bullshit as us |
| Family, family |
| Family, family |
| Family, family (Drip) |
| Family, family (Ooh-wee) |