People just don't understand how it feel.

When someone close to you dies.

You sit on the front porch stairs and you cries.

As you crying thinking in your head, that should of been me.

 I should of been the one dead.

That had to be planned out that mission was too clean.

You was my boy.

We had each others backs,until we was teens.

We were thinking about getting stacks without getting in trouble.

We were doing good, until everything started to stumble.

Got into gangs, doing drugs, selling drugs trying to make that dough the easy way.

Then one day someone started shooting.

You trying to run as fast as you can not knowing you are learning the consequences of becoming a man. 

All of a sudden you hear bullets passing by your ears

You turn around you see your homie on the ground nothing but blood found. 

Your palms is full of tears and your heart is full of fears and I never thought

that I would still be stuck here.