Where I'm from you either dead or in hell
I wonder if niggas feel that they live better in jail
If I was locked up
It's prolly cause I picked a Glock up
And lit block the up
Cause my fellow nigga tried to hit up my pockets
Right when I was down to my last dollar
He was down to his last hollow
We was one solution away
From the last of our problems
How the f*ck we gon solve em
We got more shit going on
In the head than Dennis Rodman
I'm Black, broke, educated and paranoid
What's on my mind only Allah and the devil know it
We treat our guns like chances shit we gotta blow it
That's how it goes in Southside Illinois
Well well well
It's the same up in Harlem kid
Everybody still asking where the f*cking dollar is
Pop a pill of truth homie and swallow it
We all Gods and Goddesses
I understand the time and how hard it is
But f*ck popping guns let's pop a bottle shit