Lately I been feelin like Joe, all alone

X-ed out and I can't go home - ain't no home

Almost everyone I love dead and gone

So I puff till my head is blown

I remember bein 19, juice to have ends

Used to have friends, the loot I had went

And you know when the money spent where the homies went

The phoney split and left me in the wilderness

Life a test, made a wish by the burning bush

Purge my soul, all I need's a little push

Schemers plot, never seem to stop

But he told me: Watch, soon you'll see them rot

I got a knot in my stomach and it's eatin me up

Flashbacks of my bigger brother beatin me up

Up stressin, I ain't sleepin enough

Enough already 'fore I crack the hell up

And load the Mac the hell up



[CHORUS]

I got it bad, oh where can I go

I'm in the gutter, gonna do it like Joe

Shit got me clutchin my chrome

I'm high as fuck losin touch with my soul

Cause I don't never wanna go back to broke

Like I be lustin for dough

They say it's wrong but what else can we do

That's all that shit is, to hustle for loot

No matter what you must do

But even if it's still real rough

That's all I see when I puff

Sometime the money ain't enough



New day, a touch of the sunshine

But I wake up with a mug, no love for the one-time

It's blaze a blunt time, help me deal with the pain

Time to put it down for my hustle, get real with the game

Cause money make the world revolve, a damn shame

And the Generation X is the next to blame

But who the ones makin the guns and bringin the caine?

Can you feel me what I'm addressin when singin the pain

Daddy prayin for me believin one day I'ma change

But the devil steal my mind and he drive me insane

So Mr. Teacher, tell me what should we do?

[?] cause nobody else believin in you

We all crazy; now what people do is outrageous

Homies'll turn haters, shady for dirty paper

Even [?] turn rapists tryin to [?]

Cause a young nigga ballin like the Lakers



[CHORUS]



What happened to love? Gave us all drugs

Now the kids raised thugs with hollow-point slugs

Evil mean mugs, rougher without no fate

We suffer and learn hate and end up in a sherm state

Many give up, tryin to live up to the status

So they slip up, tryin to pull that they baddest

Or the mack with the fattest Lac sit on 20 inches

Mo' fame, mo' friends, mo' money, mo' bitches



[CHORUS repeated until end]