We going home, press play nigga we on the road
No control, but we steer good with overloads
I don't condone, any fake love so stay alone
And to all the real ones, buckle up y'all we going home
Drop the pen, yeah these feelings I boxed em in
Stop again, mama telling me these are not my friends
But I pretend, that I made it out from block or pin
So i commend any real nigga that's got to win
Slight hustle, from a city where grinding never sleeps
No time, claim yours or we going fight for keeps
Got potential, talking ownership nigga not a rental
Slow down, make it easy then make it all official
Paint a picture of how life's poverty all begun
Wanted to go on that field trip but yo mama ain't have the funds
With yo stomach hugging yo back, you ate noodles 10 in a pack
Daddy gone all week, mama wondering where he is at
The streets treacherous, I guess it is, a problem we cannot fix
Black soldiers dealing with casualties from firing up all their sticks
Ones forgotten out here plotting, just seeing what all they opps do
Youngins dying, mama crying seeing babies bodies on Fox 2
It's double standards when it comes to dealing with us
We all be mourning at these funerals but where's the healing and trust?
We going home, press play nigga we on the road
No control, but we steer good with overloads
I don't condone, any fake love so stay alone
And to all the real ones, buckle up y'all we going home
In the streets it's crazy but the stories remains tragic
How can you expect us to be rock solid when surrounded by dame dashes
Driving quickly to our fate, man we just choosing which lanes fastest
Wanna leave but we can't so we glued to the same address
Cousin fighting for his life, and it's due to the same madness
Killed yo uncle last year, now you viewing the same casket
It's drastic, the measures that we go to remain woke
But We kill each other with verbiage, and step on the same throat
For us it's war on drugs, so black men were sacrifices
Now for them it's something different it's an opioid crisis
How can we nurture the future when we placed inside a dump
And when black lives only matter when it's facing Donald Trump
Amid a vicious cycle, the options are go to jail or dead
Some of us like trashy barbers we can't ever get a head
Got our granny's praying for us, maybe some how we can get hope
Remember nights was so bad we used some shampoo for the dish soap
Went to school empty stomach, you were anxious and fatigue
Mama on the phone stressing, no donations from urban league
We going home, press play nigga we on the road
No control, but we steer good with overloads
I don't condone, any fake love so stay alone
And to all the real ones, buckle up y'all we going home
Our queens accomplishing their dreams and aspirations
To be cut in half by society's unrealistic expectations
That they need a man to focus to sustain a degree
And without a father figure they going struggle high key
Now we stuck in this position, Politicians corrupt the mission
And tell yo black ass to be patient while they chill in they sub divisions
What missing? the question that we all have to face
With targets aiming on our backs making us all have to race
So I quote , "brothers and sisters please start loving thy self"
Sharing knowledge is key but now you obtaining your wealth
And one day we'll live to prosper daily cause we living lives proper
And when the devil throws distractions there is nothing to stop us
We going home, press play nigga we on the road
No control, but we steer good with overloads
I don't condone, any fake love so stay alone
And to all the real ones, buckle up y'all we going home