I mean they wanna see me in prison, the chains bamboozled
What you base your happiness around material, women
My tongue is power, it thrills women, kills demons
Sirens, wide awake, why'd I think it would change
Watchin' for paint chips, don't want no led in yo' child
No idea's original, there's nothin' new under the sun
Your part of the world, might be like colors and gangs
Shinin' since Roxanne Shante' made 'Runaway' that's been a minute
And large paper that means you inferior, not major
While in our world, the ghetto stays incredibly foul
Let's witness, the horrific, the stench'll make you nauseous
Songwriters: Nasir Jones, Alan Maman, Barry White
Headline readin' 'Rapper Slain From a Man'
It's never what you do, but how it's done
And this was goin' on in every New York ghetto
Sleep with my, wash with my in the shower
Genesis is deep, my features are that of a God
No idea's original, there's nothin' new under the sun
It's not a facade it's a fact, these rappers wanna be Nas
Four-finger rings, dealers
Go to the center, enter with caution, past the braincell graveyard
Where weed's responsible for memory loss
Everybody had money, every summer was real ill
But it all revolve around, fame and shorties
Look inside my mind, you'll find
And large paper that means you inferior, not major
Be scrappin' with tats on they back, violent wars
From, Czechoslovakia to Texas metropolis
While on my side, brothers'll for different things
We coincide, we in the same life, maybe a time difference
Where bodies are buried, first look past the hotties who dimes
But them gangstas put lead in yo' child, the bezzy be out
On a different coast, but we share the same sunlight
See what I seen every day I live with this torture
Long as I'm still breathin' I'm still winnin', I'll teach 'em
The chain be like a hundred K
Uhh, uhh, uhh
Can't hide when you famous or even try to do the same things like
Before I, walk out the door I size up every option
Kids listened, five percenters said it's pork and Jell-o
I'll never leave the streets, it's all in my mind
Radios on card tables, Benetton, the Gods buildin'
No half steppin' with flat tops when Rakim reigned
Which is better protection? Can't decide, that's a hard one
Them, treacherous rocksters in the Mexican mafias
Lightin' up to stay high like 24 hours
Eyes cut every direction, it's like God or guns
Even with sleep I'm duckin' in my dreams
Publisher: A MAMAN MUSIC
Nothin' less than a lethal injection if ever caught
It's never what you do, but how it's done
Uhh, uhh
Somebody's always watchin', my life
What you base your happiness around material, women
Courtrooms, eagles and flags, American style
The hood converted from trey bags to 20's a girl
Stuck for your bling, stripped for your chain, the same story
My Exodus doesn't exist
Ask for today's mathematics, we Allah's children