| Same old thing looking out this window right here
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| I wonder is it ever gonna change?
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| Hi I roll with the slum and throw my condolence to sons
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| And daughters depart just to walk with their marvelous father
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| And skies that are blue as the eyes of a portrait of Jesus
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| Every nigga that’s ignorant is supporting my genius
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| Increasing my anger at babies deceased from a hanger
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| Somebody’s baby’s deceased from police where there’s danger
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| It’s not safe in the streets for little Patrice and Kilayla
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| It’s blood on that man’s hands that has nothing to savor
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| Willing to die before his eye it’s spilling and cry
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| His tissue is damp, his fist holds a pistol that’s clamped
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| How can I not watch the news? |
| It’s in front of my house
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| It’s so close, you swore you saw the gun in my mouth
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| Near shot three houses down from the weed spot
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| A fiendish plot through broken English between the lots
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| Sick of it all, house is burnt from the brick to the walls
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| Neighborhood kids are involved instead of kicking a ball
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| They’d rather kick in your balls
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| Yeah, I roll with the slum, your hand out, I don’t owe you a crumb
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| So therefore, before me, you’d rather spare yours
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| Ain’t coming off a dime cause many dimes I lost
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| And I won’t be crying as a president in this present and awkward time
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| They pour me a drink, I be at the bar with the preacher
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| Ready to spar, stress got my whole head in a jar
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| Taxes is high, planes jacking they crash in the sky
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| They’re masking their cry cursing out God asking him why
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| Women with no class be batting the lash of their eye
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| Pathetic, some women pregnant but sucks on the glass to get high
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| I seen robberies by a fiend afraid of God
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| I never seen a fiend robbing me for not a thing
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| Honestly, we lie to the judge about sex, violence, and drugs
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| Girls with fake IDs get inside of the club
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| And catch a nigga up off the liquor drunk
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| Make the cock jump, get knocked up for a bigger chunk and |