Believe me, you won't get to repeat
This ain't TV, we struggle in the sea
You can feel the heat like the summer
Cops on the beat like a drummer
Lift you off your feet, don't slumber
Hear the Gats speak like thunder
They want ya, run amok on ya
You better kick the swing like Samba
Runners, gunners, all about the green
Buzzing, troubling, fuzz ain't coming
The dealers ain't budging
They standin' on the corners like,
New shit, uh, it's like that
Still bangin' in your Jeep, nigga
Y 'all niggas don't know, uh
Yeah, one thing about the streets,
It's all about the dollars
and how they get arranged
Yeah, they hustle only way they
niggas get murked, nigga,
It's a pity when sin take
Turn the gritty then end the whole era
This place used to have soul,
Shots roll, and smoking like it's hot coal
Just to keep it not swole
In this game full of players,
What position you playin' at 2 a
Schemin' and dreamin' bout
pushin' somethin' foreign
Are you the kid with no pops?
doin' the bid for yo' props
Until the show stops, the curtain closes
you're beneath the dirt and roses
In this land of single mothers,
thugs, bushes, and thieves
Full of metal slugs, drugs,
And it's hard for you to breathe
The hood tryna take us under
and question everything that we believe
They made us slum, where we from?
this what you call a slum, dumb shit
Yeah, still bangin' at your jeep, nigga
Y 'all niggas don't know, uh
Y 'all bout to bear witness