A Lil Story For Yall
He was a goody good good//
Born and raised in the hood//
Chubby cute face wit his hair nicely combed to the side//
The kind of kid who would cry, during elementary if his mom would be late wit the ride//
Motha fuckin bulllies would pick on em juss cuz he was younger//
Known to be a weak nigga wit a family that had no numbers//
So when he got home it was just his grandma cookin that plain old rice//
Mama at school, daddy workin his ass off to get his son the newest kind of nikes//
10 people stuffed in one house but you never heard him complain once//
Middle school hit and him and his cousin would throw fist for the last bit of that captain crunch//
Growin up wit a hard headed bunch//
Learned after all these years on how to take a punch//
He grew hard and never ever did you see him get hit and fuckin grunt//
He wanted the power and he wanted the stunt//
So he came back to the niner wit his hair slick back and faded to the zero//
Dickies on, chucks on wit the fat laces and it was clear yo//
The game done took hold of em and that goody good boy became a neighborhood hero//
A kid who now looked up to niggaz like Al Pacino and Robert DiNero//
Feenin to live that gangsta life wit the money power and respect//
Just another young nigga who lost his soul and is now headed slowly straight to the deck//
The young motha fucka packed guns//
Chrome and black ones//
Hustled harder than any motha fucka so he could stack funds//
Watch your back son//
You gotta remember these scandolous ass niggaz also pack one//
Never learning his lesson until that night at the park//
He left his cousin alone in the dark//
Went to take a piss and these motha fuckaz rolled up and shot his cousin 5 times in the heart//
Blunt after blunt he would spark//
Nuttin but revenge on his mind, pistol close to his head, he’s stressin//
The whole situation musta been a curse or a blessin//
Scared for his life, sick and tired of guessin//
Load up them K’s he said, lets raise the fuckin dead//
The streets fuckin bleed//
Nephews, Brothers, Sons, Uncles, turned victim to the block//
He made shit hot, he done made shit pop//
16 years old, leading soldiers to war//
Niggaz bowed down as soon as stepped into the door//
He finally did it… but remember on how all those gangsta movies ended//
Rules were rules but he chose to fuckin bend it//
His homies left one by one until he was left alone//
25 to life, and sure shots to the dome//
None of these motha fuckaz returning home//
No longer known, now the one remembering, reminiscing//
Missin how things were but fuck life goes on//
Now a changed nigga tryin to get along//
In this world that so nice not knowing what to expect//
No more power, no money, no respect//
A hard nigga gone soft, not knowing how he should be livin//
Lil shit happens and he starts trippin//
No one understands or gives him the chance, so what the fuck//
Still livin, still around, still continuing to push his luck.
