A nigga would kill his own brother for a couple of G'z just to go spend it on a whip that's clean, a gucci belt and a couple pair of True religion jeans.

Giving money right back to the blood line that once owned slaves, Called us "Nigger children" and stripped us of our faith.

Rapping along to the songs created to get the rich folks paid.  

Then they straight flexin for the "hoes", no bum - price tag still on his clothes and she exploits herself while she rides it like a pro.

One step closer to that STD or those unwanted children.

Welfare checks & no education. Catch a little job and no worries cause at least you looking good, but good ain't how you living.

A soon to be statistic.

A fallen soldier, fell victim to the system..

Baby mama drama and beef in these streets.

Heat on yo lap and a "bad bitch" in yo sheets,

Yeah, you the man but instead of tags on yo clothes, they putting prices on ya head.

Now you tryna lay low cause all these niggas want you dead but you can't hide from a bullet, it has a mind of its own.

Wrong place, wrong time -- Now you're gone.

& we get to say Rest in peace, pretend that you were just a poor victim of the streets.

"Beloved son with a bright future ahead" ,

Not the young thug who was on a mission for the bread.

& on the day you get buried 6ft deep, No one's gonna care about the Jay's up on ya feet or logo on ya ass..

Tears will be shed & time will pass & then another young nigga will fall in your place. Money is the root of all evil. & Evil is wide awake.  

A never ending cycle because we're blinded by the shine. 

From the start we were told to rise & grind but this grind is and has always been our downfall.

How many souls have to be sold until we answer the wake up call?

R.I.P