[Verse One]

It aint but two roads that you can take

When you doing dirt to get the money that you make

I aint going to knock you, for tryin to get your mail

But all the true gangstas is dead or in jail

See boy, you'za fool, 15 years old

Thinkin you gonna stack you up and killa bank roll

You used to have to scrape, now your krib is straight layed out

Started sellin dope cuz them Ku Klux done played out

The home boys told ya but ya didn't learn a thing

An OG, even took ya up under his wing

He said "the dope game is like a basketball team

Everybody gotta role, we can't all be a king"

Got some king pins, you got the little g's

Some people sell rocks, while others move keys

You work your way up, and now you makin all the bread

But you might meet the feds or some bullets to your head

cuz it aint but two roads


[Chorus]

The game is sweet, but sometimes it's sour

High cappers getting bumped off by the hour

You take the high road, you take the low

You'll end up dead, but you'll be on death row


[Verse Two]

I gotta friend who started strugglin, hit some hard times

Never been the type to indulge in petty crimes

Anywayz I saw him, most likely you can find me

I graduated 1989 he came behind me

But when he graduated, he started getting nervous

Mama said "you gots to get a job or join the service"

He thought to himself, "should I push up on KFC

Or join the army, and be all I can never be"

Then he remembered that his partna said "holla

At me anytime you wanna make a quick dollar"

He kicked my boy down with a small lick to start with

Said that he would stop when he moved in his apartment

And get himself a ride, but yo, something happened

He started makin bank, putting freaks, and high cappin

He got to acting shife and people's dope he started taking

Now he's in the grave cuz he crossed that Jamaican


[Chorus]

The game is sweet, but sometimes it's sour

High cappers getting bumped off by the hour

You take the high road, you take the low

You'll end up dead, but you'll be on death row


[Bridge]

I aint but two roads, that you can take

One is the jail house, the others the grave


[Verse Three]

What ever happened to the days, when a brotha used to scrap, with hands

And when it's over, gave eachother dap

Aint no such thang as a one on one right?

A one on one is now a gun on gun fight

Ya had to get your strap, and blast 'em in the chest maan

Because your pride couldn't except, the fact, that he had the best hands

Now what's up with that? How we gonna stand?

Killin a man over a women, killin a women cuz she took your man

It's not that, it's some dope that'swhere our mind at

Time is runnin out, so really the bottom like is

Smokers gon' smoke, gangstas gon' shoot

But you can't kill a tree by cuttin the branch, you gotz to get the root

And that be the media on TV, tryna blame the blacks for all the problems

that they see

Yo, the politicians you know we can't trust

Cuz guess who they makin all them new laws up for

Yeah, I see you blind but you can see

I'ma tell you, just like L.V. told me

You got to cherish your old folks and kids too

Cuz you can teach the kids and old folks can teach you about the roads


[Chorus]

The game is sweet, but sometimes it's sour

High cappers getting bumped off by the hour

You take the high road, you take the low

You'll end up dead, but you'll be on death row


[Bridge]

I aint but two roads, that you can take

One is the jail house, the others the grave

No I don't wanna see my people dying

No I don't wanna see you crying

Things are gonna get better

We need put ourself together, yea