Its so depressing, uh..
Be the realest shit I ever wrote (Money and cars bitches)
Shit Is Real Part 2.. (drugs) modern day.. (society yaknow?)
See what its like to walk in my shoes
It aint all fun and games (ya heard?)
Yo yo
Im sick and tired of stressin, every days a different lesson
Im free-fallin tryna leave this deep depression
My son Joey still slow, my moms got cancer in her throat
My big brother sniffin dope
Lemme know how many motherfucker wanna be just like me
Screamed at and treated like shit by your wifey
This hot bitch be sweatin the coke cash
My baby mother think I grow dough out my ass
Its like, how much fight I got left in me?
Niggaz wont be happy till they bring the fuckin death of me
But you never see Joe look weak or flow off beat
and Charlie sees the board in four more weeks
You gotta walk where I walked
Bang where I bang
Slang where I hang
To get where Im going to
Stay where I stay
Blaze who I blazed
Pay dues how I payed
To get where Im going to
Uh, yo, the South Bronx, nine years later
Aint nuttin changed, niggaz still playa haters
T.S. the best thats done it, forever live and never front it
Reminisce of when I used to hold heat and tell niggaz "run it"
Now we flooded with jewels, hundreds of dudes
Crowd the Coliseum to hear they favorite tunes
Then at the time of our prime we caught a sick one
The angels came down, took my twin Big Pun
Shit were unbalanced throughout the whole world
All I could do was try to provide for his seeds and his old girl
Hope your listenin, tell Ton that we still missin him
Im like a prisoner in jail with no visitors
Yeah, uh, aiyyo the third verse is dedicated to you
Even though you switched teams, Im praying for you
We used to stay up all night countin dollar for dollar
You was my sons godfather, where the fuck is your honor?
Cant even rap the shit we did together
Youd probably have me shackled locked down doin bids forever
You broke the first code
Id like to twist ya wifey till it roasts gold
Snitch nigga, turned state to sold ya soul
How could a nigga that was clappin in the streets
start yappin to the deez, like what I rightly should believe?
Like ever verse is a charge, for every hurt theres a scar
I never once tried to hurt chall
Im just tryna do me, sell a few CDs
Buy land in Miami and cop a new B come on!
Motherfuckers think its sweet
Think a nigga got money and a nigga dont feel pain
You aint never feel my pain
You dont know what the fuck Im goin through
Niggaz lookin at me like, "He got it made"
Like I aint lose Pun, my grandfather a week later
My aunt a month later
Like my fuckin sister aint in a coma right now!
You motherfuckers dont know pain!
Lets get one thing clear; moneyll never buy you happiness
My true niggaz walk with me now!
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