I know your mama never said that there'd be days like this
I watched my nigga play the game, he swung the bat and missed
Three timing on block, the police jacked the nigga for sellin hay
25 to life, the nigga had a baby on the way
He told the judge, "I couldn't get a job; and if I did,
$6.75 an hour ain't enough to feed my kid"
Seems like a plot to keep me trapped inside a ghetto maze
And it's a trip, a liquor store on every corner
Buy some drank, take a sip
thinkin of when we was kids causin trouble and that shit



Yea, but even then nigga's used to die, hustling to get they skrilla
On the for real-la, the police used to kill a
black man, jack him for nothin but they make up shit said the nigga did somethin

Never judge a book by the cover, you study long, you study wrong
You lag in the game, you lose your life
You made your bed, now say goodnight


Proppel is born and raised in the Oakland streets
Watching my homeys jack for bread and meat
Two in degree on that other level, that game was fed to me
But I aimed that negative energy at the enemy
When I get the urge to kill a sleepy sucka,
I fucked up a cracker, in the back of his dome, his skull shattered
The gray matter they call brains splattered
up against the wall, the rest oozed out his head on the gooch
I took his skrilla, I left him dead as I fled the 7 deuce
The righteous black gorillas was in the session
That's when I was moved to kick this lesson