intro:
I'm in my anger management class for self help right...and the psychiatrist keeps askin' me all these questionz like he don't know the answer or some shit...

(psychiatrist speaking)-"Tomas...how would you describe yaself??????"

verse 1:

hmmm...lack of sleep...packin' heat...I sold crack and weed on blackend streets...
rap with ease...so rapidly...take 2 hits and pass the leaf...I had to be a fast ass thief...

(psychiatrist)-"how did you rob people??????"

I said "lady give ya cash to me...before I have to snatch ya keys...
I didn't care about her saddened pleas...all I knew was I had to eat...

(psychiatrist)-"so...how'd you get caught??????"

well...I never quite intended on gettin' cought with my man...
but the last day we was jackin' was kinda sloppily planned...
it happened one sunny day when I was out with my manz...
we seen some bagz layin' on the beach...out in the sand...
the owner of the car accidently reported the shit stolen at 1st...
so when the cops seen up run into it...they pulled us over and searched...
I was forced to sit on the pavement...and it was hot on the street...
on the floorboard in the car were the bagz that we just got from the beach...

(psychiatrist) "ok...ya session for today is over...thank you and have a nice day Tomas...

thank you...for wastin' my money and time...the sun doezn't shine when fake rappaz be frontin' in rhymez...
you won't feel all optimitic when ya fam in the hood diez...you'll feel sorrow...
have a nice day...good-bye...I guess that I'ma have to see you tomorrow...