Another homey die so I wipe the
tears from my eyes, and ask God how many
lonely painful tears will I cry,
seems like nobody even care about
here in tha hood, I tried to get
a job, but they swear I'm up to no good,
misunderstood from a young age, on
a rampage, from an adolescent,
carrying hollow points in my smith-n-wessen,
for anybody second guessing if I'm
scared to test 'em, ain't nuttin' even worth livin' fo',
tha richa getting' richa and tha
ghetto remain poor, liquor stores and tha gun shops,
and everybody wonders why my thugs
pack glocks and kill cops, full of
hurt since birth, why was I placed on this earth,
seems like everybody in tha ghetto
is cursed wit a curse, and what's
worse, is that my patnas dying at a fast rate,
dear God can you help me out, I'm
looking for an escape.