[T-Bone]

Yo picture me rollin like Pac in a drop gold double R

Women, champagne, weed, cigars and caviar

Livin tha life of a thug, movin em drugs, duckin em slugs

Dealin wit phones tapped wit bugs, plus

Associated wit some hard hittas, cold killas

Convicts, thugs and drug dealers

Cop killas, and drug lords stackin 8 figures

Quick to pull a trigga and leave a body floatin in the river

We gorillas in this jungle collectin mad skrilla

Bankin on cheddar and cream, from dope fiends

From a land where everybody gotta fend for themselves

Half of the mommies doin 25 to life in a cell

Seems like we dwell in the pits of hell wit no bail

Chained up, captive and tortured by the enemy's spell

Who hears my cries from these lonely jail cell

And what do I profit to lose my soul and gain from drug sales



[Chorus]

Livin the street life

Crystal, drugs and crushed ice

Hangin wit plays who plain hiest and roll dice

In casinos like Bugsy Siegal

We outlaws forever livin illegal

Tha street life



[T-Bone]

A yo, the street life is the only life I know

taught to hustle these streets and grind to make dough

Cope the 4-4, jump in the 6-4

Blast on my adversaries then end up on death row

Yo, this was the life I seen raised as a youth

Where everybody smokin chronic, sippin 98 proof

Aint no happy days and sunshine

In my hood is jus crime, cryin for one time

Slugs flyin, and everybody tryin to come up in this evil drug game

Insane, vision of murder just increase the pain

Cocaine and methamphetamine

I want out, but gave an oath to the death of me

So let it be, Ima ride on my enemy

But when they bury me, I fear where my soul will be

Eternally searchin for light patna, but I'm in the midst of the dark

Its so hard, when you in this ghetto prison lookin for God



[Chorus]



[T-Bone]

Another homie dies, so I wipe the tears from my eyes

And ask God how many lonely painful tears will I cry

Seems like nobody even cares out here in the hood

I tried to get a job, but they swear I'm up to no good

Misunderstood from a young age, on a rampage

From an adolescent carryin hollow points in a smith-n-wesson

For anybody second guessin, if I'm scared to test em

Aint nothin even worth livin for

The richa gettin richa and the ghetto remains poor

Liqour stores and gun shops

And everybody wonder why thugs pack glocks and kill cops

Full of hurt since birth, why was I placed on this earth

Seems like everybody in this ghetto is cursed wit a curse

And whats worse, is that my potnah dyin at a fast rate

Dear God can you help me out, I'm lookin for an escape



[Chorus]