Unreal life
Yo//
What you see on TV, 'bout niggas gettin' killed//
It's our reality, no matter if it sounds unreal//
Everyday a nigga in a hood, ghetto, dies//
And I swear, still that nigga's mother cries//
And it was so long time ago, but the pain is still there//
And fear of another son's death is still with her here//
And she fears of these gangs, like Bloods and Crips//
She scared of fingertips on triggers, bullets n' clips//
She worried everytime she hear gunshots and her sons aint home//
They often outside, she spends a lot of time alone//
And she still mourns her son, for how long will she mourn him//
She never gettin' tired of it, but her son's thinks it's gettin' corny//
But what's wrong with mourning your dead son//
When he got killed cuz a Crip thought he was a Blood, but he was none//
But he was just a simple Taxi driver wearin' red//
Next day he was laid in a casket all dead//
They want peace in the world, well make peace on the streets//
Beat out and put an end to these gangs and gees//
That just kills for respect, money, honor and loyality//
Where's the willpower, mentality, there's only fatality//
Yo, I catch my breath n' drink water as a nigga die//
I ask God why do they make this nigga's mother cry//
And I still wonder, but I find no answers to my questions//
More niggas die as you sit back n' have an erection//
Damn, now I need to mourn my brother who got dead//
Shit, another nigga's funeral I gotta lay on my head//
peeeaaaaceee
The only time you feel alive is when you're dead
|