And it ain't for natural causes  fool  they catchin' a blast
 Tim  Yogi  Bruce and James
 pick up the newspaper  fool  and it's all familiar names
 Brothas i grew up with and do up with
 Partners killin' partners  man  that's the cold shit
 Gots me spooked to hang with the fellas
 Cause you never know when the nextman's gettin' jealous
 Cause I've seen some cold shit:
 Brothas gettin' killed over the words of a bitch
 Now tell me what that be like, player
 But in the Oaktown ain't no rules, nigga
 Everything's fair, hah!
 And the main fact is a bullet
 He's got his finger on the trigga
 And he'll damn sure pull it
 This defines ghetto mentality, right?
 But it all so got a player runnin' for his life...

 I walked to my homie's funeral last week
 Tears rolled down his mama's cheek
 And it made me think:
 I never tripped when i was gunnin' and funnin'
 But the things i did in past got me duckin', dodgin, runnin'
 And it ain't that i'm scared but if a fool starts to blastin'
 It ain't like I'm gonna stand there
 See, moms allready lost my brotha
 So I keeps my vest on when I roam in the gutter
 But we droppin' like flies
 What's goin' on the Eastside can't be denied
 Remember when we used to box?
 But nowadays we grabbin' A.K.'s
 And be bringin' down the whole block
 And little kids gettin' gaught up in the crossfire
 Before he reaches a teens he's expired
 12 years old and it's a damn shame
 Layin' in the middle of the nearest lane, hah!
 And it brings tears to my eyes, damn!
 We got'em runnin' for their lifes...

 Another mother's tears on the cheeks
 Seems like another brotha got beated by these Eastside streets
 He fell victim to a drive-by
 And I find myself askin' why?
 Was he part of the game claimin' red or blue?
 Or was is just a time to him to pay for things he do
 He probably killed another brotha
 Don't act like you're shocked
 Cause that's the way of the gutter
 He was the baller callin' major shots
 He slipped one too many times so he got dropped
 And ain't nobody untouchable, fool
 Before the phony starts everything's cool, hah!
 But once it's on it's goin' down
 Drive-by?s sparkin' up the whole fuckin' town
 Deathtomb 17 over the weekend
 Strapped with my vest in the funerals of my friends
 Cause they droppin' like flies
 Stayin' alive you can't do shit but try
 Cause the brothas slippin' to the left
 And the name of the game ain't shit but death
 Because the way we live, hah!
 They got us runnin' for our lives