CHORUS
 Children play  women produce
 Kids killing kids just for the juice
 Now Africa is looking for the truth
 But it's gonna take a while to enlighten the youth

 In this edition of the story  no need to bore me
 It can't do nothin' for me  even Denzel Washington couldn't find any glory
 In the overcrowded streets of the city
 I know it's shitty  but I can do without the pity
 (Baby never lived in the ghetto)...or the projects
 But I wear my Tim boots and Hi-Tecs, and I wrecks havoc
 And if you try to play me I won't have it
 Trix are for kids, this kid is not a silly rabbit

 (Well) He's standin' on a corner with his system pumpin' loud
 Next him goin' off, scream in the crowd
 A whole lot of screams, a lot of broken glass
 Brothers like to wear their pants fallin' off their ass
 Girls today don't wear no bras
 Little John Doe got a ho turnin' tricks in the bars
 Grandma carries a can of mace
 And she'll stick a .45 in your face

 So come and meet my man Brett (Yo, what up, Brett?)
 He's smokin', but it's not a cigarette (Speak on it, Pep)
 I wonder how the hell a brother lets himself
 Get into somethin' he can't out of? (Uh-huh, uh-huh)
 A lot of my friends are sick and tired (Sick of who?)
 The police (Word!) rollin' on 'em, pickin' on, holdin' on 'em
 Hopin' that they got one of 'em
 It was a drug bust, but something's weird
 (Well, what's the matter, Spinderella?)
 The way half a million disappeared

 CHORUS

 Heaven and hell is on earth
 Heaven and hell is on earth

 Who gives a damn about me?
 (Huh?) Me (what?), me, yeah, little old me
 Me, myself, and I
 Live or die, laugh or cry
 I'm all that I got, Pops, and that's a lot, Hops
 I'd rather rot in jail before I ho-hop
 Go 'head, me, tell 'em
 They may be hard of hearing
 So keep yellin' at the top of your lungs
 Now everybody's got guns
 They wanna be hard rocks and not be a fool
 That buys a history book
 Not me, I'll need a clock, not rock to my hits
 And that two-fifth click to my tits
 And Playgirl's gonna rip, and I'm-a have to rip shit
 Ah, go for yours cuz you gotta
 In the ghetto you don't get a medal if you settle for the drama
 She's a gangster and the other terminal cancer
 Ask too many questions and my Smith and Wesson will answer

 Heaven and hell is on earth
 Heaven and hell is on earth

 Well everybody be damned, her father's in jail
 Sister's on the corner screamin', "Booty for sale"
 Mom spends the night gettin' drunk with her uncle
 Her brother's sellin' radios and toasters by the trunkful
 See, every man she ever messed would wind up dead
 Some might fall in jail, others runnin' from the Feds
 (The only thing she ever loved was a piece of lead)
 And that's a double-barrelled pump underneath the bed

 Some people wanna fill the world with silly love songs and looney tunes
 And some got sad songs, mad songs, and moody blues
 There's good news and bad news, military coups
 A rebel with no cause in a pack of fools
 I never lived in the slum, never shot a gun
 But I'll use one, don't make me use one

 CHORUS

 Heaven and hell is on earth
 Heaven and hell is on earth

 CHORUS (repeat/fade