Tired of getting shot at, tired of getting chased by the police and arrested. Niggas need a spot where we can kick it, a spot where we belong, that's just for us. Niggas ain't gotta get all dressed up and be Hollywood, nah I mean, where them niggas go when we die? Ain't no heaven for a thug nigga, that's why we go to Thug Mansion, that's the only place where thugs getting free and you gotta be a G, at Thug Mansion. A place to spend my quiet nights, time to unwind, so much pressure in this life of mine. I cried times I once contemplated suicide, and would've tried, but when I held that knife, all I could see was my momma's eyes. No one knows my struggle, they only see the trouble. Not knowing it's hard to carry on when no one loves you. Picture me inside the misery of poverty, no man alive has ever witnessed struggles I survived. Praying hard for better days, promise to hold on, me and my dogs ain't have a choice but to roll on. We found a folly spot to kick it, where we can drink liquor and no one bickers over trick shit. A spot where we can smoke in peace, and even though we G's, we still visualize places that we can roll in peace. And in my mind's eye, I see this place, the players going past, I got a spot for us all, so we can ball at Thug's Mansion. Every corner, every city, there's a place where life's a little easy, little Hennessy, sleep bank and cool, every hour, cause it's all good. Leave all the stress from the world outside, every wrong done, we'll be alright. Nothing but peace, love, and street passion, every ghetto needs a Thug Mansion. Well I survived all the fights and the darkness, trouble sparks. They tell me home is where the hard heads did the party. I shed tattooed tears and couldn't sleep good for multiple years. Witnessed peers cast gunshots, nobody cares. Seen the politicians ban us, they'd rather see us locked in chains. Please explain why they can't stand us, is there a way for me to change? Or am I just a victim of things I did to maintain? I need a place to rest my head with the little bitter homeboys that remain. Cause all the rest dead, is there a spot for us to grow? If you find it, I'll be right behind you, show me and I'll go. How can I be peaceful? I'm coming from the bottom, watch my daddy scream peace while the other man shout him. I need a house that's full of love when I need to escape the deadly place of slinging drugs in Thug Mansion. Every corner, every city, there's a place where life's a little easy. Little Tennessee, laid back and cool, every hour, cause it's all good. We don't stress from the world outside, every wrong done will be alright. Nothing but peace, love, and street passion, every ghetto needs a Thug Mansion. Mama, don't cry, your baby boy's doing good. Tell the homies I'm in heaven and they ain't got hoods. Seen a show at Marvin Gaye last night, it had me shook. Drinking peppermint schnapps with Jackie Wilson and Sam Cooke. Then some lady named Billie Holiday sang, sitting there kicking it with Malcolm till the day came. Little Natasha's so grown, tell the lady in the liquor store that she's forgiven. So come home, maybe in time you'll understand. Only God can save us when Miles Davis cutting loose with the band. Just think all the people that you knew in the past, that passed on, they in heaven found peace that lasts. Picture a place that they exist together. There has to be a place better than this in heaven. So right before I sleep, dear God, what I'm asking, remember this faith, save me a place in Thug's Mansion. Every corner, every city, there's a place where life's a little easy. Little Tennessee, laid back and cool, every hour, cause it's all good. Leave all the stress from the world outside, and there'll be wrong done, there'll be alright. Nothing but peace, love, and street passion, and forget all this at Thug's Mansion. Thug's Mansion