[Chorus:] 

She don't know why 

But all she knows 

is that her youngest child 

is a real gangsta now 

you see... 



[Verse 1:] 

He was a good kid all through elementary 

A's and B's and had no enemies 

But he saw all the G's as he walked home 

he couldn't read all the words on the walls though 

So many letters crossed out with X's 

He wondered but knew not to ask those questions

No pops, and his mom worked to the nail 

She managed to buy him some shoes on sale 

She didn't know, she bought the wrong color 

And they stayed in the closet all summer 

Even though the kid wasn't affiliated 

He knew what they loved, and knew what they hated

Now he's in Middle School, same individual 

But this is where things seem to get a bit difficult 

This is the life of a young Mexican 

First verse done take me to the second one 



[Chorus x2] 



[Verse 2:] 

6th grade, why so much homework 

Got a pot pie sitting in the stove burnt 

Momma still ain't back from her job yet 

So he eats it cause that's all he got left 

Then he plays with his little puppy Cinnamon 

His last dog was a victim of a hit n run 

There's a knock on his door it's his homeboy 

Your mom's gone? He pulls out a chrome toy 

Where'd you get that from? The kid asked 

We broke into a house we got a bunch of shit stashed 

It was the first time he ever held a real gun 

To get one of these you gotta steal one 

We too young they won't let us buy a gat 

Now if they shoot at us we can fire back 

Who is they and why would they blast at me? 

Cause you from the hood fool, this is family 



[Chorus x2] 



[Verse 3:] 

A year passes now the kids Dickies sag 

In his pocket got a knife and a nickel bag 

And the homeboy that showed him his first gun 

Got killed last week in a burban 

Putting work in 45 jerkin' 

Lucky shot hit, popped like a virgin 

Closed casket touched as he strolled past it 

Got his name tattooed into a hoes asses 

So he'll still be remembered often while 

His little bitch gettin' hit doggy style 

It ain't stoppin' now while his moms' on the ground 

On her knees yelling "Please Lord not my child 

I want to watch him smile 

He can turn his Pac up loud 

He can sleep with his pitbull on the couch" 

And while the kid is listening to her words 

All he can think about is bloody, bloody murders 



[Chorus x2]