I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side Stayin' alive was no job, had second hands Moms bounced on old man, so then we moved to Shallon Land A young youth, you're rockin' the gold tooth, low goose Only way I'll begin to G-York was drug loot And let's start it like this, son, rollin' with this one And that one, pullin' out gats for fun But it was just a dream for the teen who was a fiend Started smokin' wools at sixteen And runnin' up in gates and doin' hits for high stakes Makin' my way off firescapes No question I was speed for cracks in weed The combination made my eyes bleed No question I would flow off and try to get the dough off Stickin' up right boys on ball courts My life got no better, same damn low sweater Times was rough and tough like leather Figured out I went the wrong route So I got with a sick tight click and went all out Catchin' keys from cross seas Rollin' in MPVs Every week we made 40 Gs Yo, brothers, respect mine I ain't gotta tech, nah Ch-pow, move from the gate now It's been 22 long, hard years I'm still strugglin', survival got me buggin' But I'm alive on arrival I peep at the shape of the streets To stay awake to the ways of the world C-deep A man with a dream With plans to make cream What's fair? I went to jail at the age of fifteen A young buck, sellin' drugs and such Who never had much Tryin' to get a clutch on what I could not touch The court played me short Now I face incarceration Patient No one upstates my destination Handcuffed in back of a bus Forty of us Life as a shorty shouldn't be so rough But as the world turned, I learned life was hell Livin' in the world no different from a cell Every day I escape from jakes, givin' chase Sellin' bass Smokin' bones in the staircase Though I don't know why I chose to smoke cess I guess that's the time when I'm not depressed But I'm still depressed And I ask, what's it worth? Ready to give up, so I seek the old earth Who explained working hard may help you maintain To learn to overcome the heartaches and pain You got stick-up kids, corrupt cops And crack rocks and straight shots All in a block that stays hot Leave it up to me while I be livin' proof To kick the truth to the young black youth But shorties runnin' wild, smokin' cess, drinkin' beer And ain't tryin' to hear what I'm kickin' in his ear Neglect it for now, but yo, it gots to be accepted That what? That life is hectic