Intro
Yeah, this one right here
I dedicate this one right here
To everybody out there
Ya dig, Uh huh
Check it out

Verse 1
Now I ain’t trying to be the greatest
I used to hate hip-hop. Yep, because the women degraded
But Too $hort made me laugh, like a hypocrite I played it
A hypocrite I stated, though I only recited half
Omitting the word “bitch”, cursing, I wouldn’t say it
Me and dog couldn’t relate till the bitch I dated
Forgive my favorite word for hers and hers alike
But I learnt it from a song I heard and sorta liked
Yeah, further icing glamorized drug dealing was appealing
But the block club kept it from in front of our building
Gangsta rap base filaments, became the building blocks
For children with leaking ceilings catching drippings with pots
Coupled with compositions from Pac, Nas’ “It was written”
Intermixed with my realities and feelings
Living conditions, religion, ignorant wisdom and
Autistic vision I began to jot, tap the world and listen
It Drop…

Chorus 1
My mom can’t feed me. My boyfriend beats me
I have sex for money. The hood don’t love me.
The cops wanna kill me. This nonsense built me
And I got nowhere to go
They bomb my village. They call us killers
Took me off they welfare. Can’t afford they healthcare
My teacher won’t teach me. My master beats me
And it hurts me soul

Verse 2
I had a ghetto boy bopper Jay-Z boycott
Cause he said that he never prayed to God he prayed to Gotti
I’m thinking golly, God, guard me from the ungodly
But by my thirtieth watching of “Streets is Watching”
I was back to giving props again and that was bothering
‘Bout as uncomfortable as an Untouchable touching you
The theme songs that niggas hustle to seem wrong
But these songs was coming true and it was all becoming cool
I found a condom and the ground that jobs were coming too and though
What constitutes a prostitute is the pursuit of profit
Then they rap it, then homie in the suit, pat her on the butt, then rocket
It seems I was seeing the same scene adopted
Prevalent in different things, with the witnesses’ indifferent to stop it
They said don’t knock it mind ya business, his business is her mind
And that nigga pimping got it
Wooo

Chorus 2
They took my daughter. Ain’t got no water.
I can’t get hired. That cross on fire.
We all got suspended. I just got sentenced.
So I got no place to go.
They threw down my gang sign. I ain’t got no hang time.
They talk about my sneakers. Poisoned our leader.
My father ain’t seen me. Turn off my TV
Cause it hurt me soul


So through the Grim Reaper’s sickle sharpening
Macintosh marketing, oil field arguing
Brazilian adolescent disarmament
Israeli occupation, Islamic modern-dom precise
Yeah, laser guided targeting, oil for food bargaining
Terrorist organization harboring
Sand-camouflage army men CCF sponsoring
World conquering, telephone monitoring
Luis Vutton modeling, pornographic actress honoring
Shrine theory pondering, bulimic vomiting
Catholic Priest fondling, preemptive bombing and
Osama and Obama n’them, they’re breaking in my car again
Deforestation and over logging and, Hennessey and Hypnotic swallowing
Hydroponic coffining all the worlds’ ills
Sitting on chrome 24 inch wheels
Like that

They say I’m infected. This is what I injected.
I had it aborted. We got deported.
My laptop got spy ware. Ain’t that I can’t lye here
But I got nowhere to go
I can’t stop eating. My best friend’s leaving.
My pastor touched me. I love this country.
I lost my earpiece. I hope ya’ll hear me.
Cause it hurts me soul.