Lord, its a constant struggle (down here)

Specially when all you know how to do is hustle (down here)

Lord, its a miracle I'm still breathing (down here)

Lord, its a battefield (down here)

Lord, its easy to get killed (down here)

So I keep my family near me (down here)

And keep my bulletproof vest on

Thank you, Lord, for making teflon (down here)

Cause the ghetto has a way of manipulating the children

Tricking them into believing that life has no meaning

Down Here, Down Here

Lord, if you see my grandmother (up there)

Tell her I know she's disappointed in me

Hates to see me in and out of jail

But tell her life ain't as heavenly here as it is (up there)

I know its probably lovely (up there)

But tell her I ain't in no rush to get (up there)

So I keep my pistols off safety

At all cost I got to protect and feed these babies

As they lay and spit hell

Keeping my black ass from coming (up there)

So I'm thankful everyday

And pray my enemies, don't roll down on me

And send me kicking and screaming (up there)



ohhhhh ohhhhhh yeah ohhhhh ooo ohhh hmmmmmmm 



To my peoples trying to make it from (down here)

To my peoples who done made it (up there)

To my peoples trying to make it to (up there)

From (down here)