the reason that my momma's strung out on drugs Down to die, for everything I represent Meant every word, in my letter to the President [Big Syke] Blacks
's not And ya' know what? It's even worse They got us killin' over turfs I don't know when the last time I went to church Can't sleep, doin' too much
the wire) You strike the match...why not be utterly changed to fire? To sacrifice the shadow and the mist of a brief life you never much liked? So if you'd care
the sack no formal education and I swore way to much but I swear you didn't fucking care cause we were in love so as I write this letter and shead my
love my tape they couldnt care where they leaves yours at your girl's a rat tell that ho im not gonna beep her back dont need her black got too many other
not much been given Pop proud, mom misses sent a letter with a picture I ain't there with ya but I'm there with ya Take care mista we still here with
with foolish talk and reminiscin' As much as I would like to take it back when we was just friends I just can't, I care about you way too much And for
write you this type of letter But I shouldn't worry too much because we raised you better Me and my momma, and I know that you gonna represent And thank you for the letters
in the sack no formal education and I swore way to much but I swear you didn't fucking care cause we were in love so as I write this letter and shead
Black mafioso, my mafia family's loco Coockoo like Cocos, we leave hoes widows like Yoko Fingers on puppet strings the logo Blowin those with too much
s not And ya' know what? It's even worse They got us killin' over turfs I don't know when the last time I went to church Can't sleep, doin' too much dirt