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Still in this bitch, ninety-eight is just another year
I murder money drama bitches, that fall in piers
Comin out the city where no pity be a way of life
When niggaz quick to bust a cap in you to earn they stripes
Ain't nothin changed in these West coast killin fields
I seen so many homies die that I ain't got no feeling
So I handles mine, pack a strap and keep on strivin
And quick to let these niggaz if it get down to violent
Cause these haters ain't no friends to me, they make it plain
But I refuse to be a victim of these ghetto games
Break away from all the stress, bullshit and aggravation
And now I'm quick to blast if you want a confrontation
But it seem like every time I turn around it's drama
Hella flowers, coffee drinkin, and cryin momma
Somethin tellin me this madness ain't gon' never stop
So I keep strivin fo' the top

Now everything you think you seein might not be the truth
Understand these cowards fold when these niggaz shoot
Understand this rap shit is just another way
Just another lick where motherfuckers gettin paid
It really ain't the same as it was in the past
Back when shit was new, niggaz thought that it would last
Understand this rap game is just another front
Just another way for motherfuckers comin up, and it's like that

So what's the ticket out the ghetto for these young players
Slangin dope, playin ball or bein rhymesayers
They want the money fast, FUCK SCHOOL, that ain't what's happenin
So some of them niggaz got together and they started rappin

Autor(es): Paris