they don't understand kids today so when I pray, I pray I'll never grow to be that way And I hope that he answers me I heard God don't like ugly well
understand, is murda mo' They tell me keep my trigga finger easy, I'll open up your body Too many casualties around here, dead bodies around here And I can't get caught up
a cartridge I bank shots Wettin' up your white tank top While my nigga Bugz is stickin' up Your nearest gang spot Just another scarred liar retired We make
starin at the world through my rearview Go on baby scream to God, he can't hear you I can feel your heart beatin fast cause it's time to die (we) Gettin
mix And you don't even know you're waiting for your rhyme fix But my mind sticks, my rhyme hits, your mind gets Amputated, cuz your style ain't even Hip
When you walk up in the place with no fear of God what so ever Mind only on chedder slanging out the blue beretta Hit the club in somthing better just to show off your
killing billions to make room for me to get up Then I raise the dead up, I speak for those that's fed up But won't let up, crucifix, birds picking at
play gun Our kids days are up even if they ain't stray ones You lay one or two on the more now the merrier the day's dumb When crews war and now streets
from that So I know what's on your mind when you're cocking your nine back Busting your bullets at them niggas on the corner And you aim 7 5 till your
up Cops all around and now you in some hand cuffs You need some bail money but your fam wanna front You think to yourself where your plan slipped up
precise You know the Poet's nice, carryin tubes made of gold and ice Marchin through your outpost, causin outbursts Caught you in your house, cold made your
kids to get dough and dress up like Sponge Bob in a six four It's fucked up what they did, so I'm on one knee God bless the brother of Rich Po Ain't