hard goin thru life, without stayin outa strife,
im only 18 n i got 1 more stike, one was for beatin up my wife,
the other was for stabbin her with a knife,
next time, its gona be 25 - life,
its almost like every rhyme that i write, ruins my life,
eventhough i didnt do it, it dont have the rite,
to explain on the mic, wat really happened that night,

im goin to the courts this time, but the fault wasnt mine,
i get pulled every time, when im drivin,
thinking that i caused a crime, is it cause im black?
man this shit is wacked, they think im dealin crack,
always tellin me to watch my back, or i could get nacked

they callin up my residents, claimin they got evidence,
they takin it too far, they got the aproval from the president,
that i shall recieve death, lord i dont wana die,
knowing that all my family will cry, this aint right,
i wana new case, new trial, and explain why,
its not my time to die, im only young in my life,
i have 2 kids and a beautiful wife

so they just throw me in jail, and give me an un-named year,
and end my career, turning my life to the liquor,
missin all my niggaz, goin down one by one,
from all those triggers, gun by gun,
im on my way to the graveyard, diggin me a dip
u dont need to push me, ill fall straight in it,
all that needs to done, is listen to wat i say
wait for the dirt to be blown away,
to read the name that is written on my grave.