I'm coming from the belly of the beast,
Where the pain can run deep
Pouring liquor to the curve
For the ones that rest in peace
My flesh is getting hot
And my soul is filled with grief
I pray but on these dark nights
The devil runs the street
Ain't no sun shine
Just the youth covered with sheets
And through these hard times
All my dreams seem to be filled with chalk lines
And the murders of all my peeps
Then a flat line
And the dude dead is always me
Prayin' for salvation
Cuz it's hard for me to sleep
I'm like a mental patient out lost in poverty
Is it hard to see
All the things that I have been through?
Just look into my eyes
You'll see the crack pipes and pistols,
Blood gangs and crips
Who formulate to control
All parts of south central
I know it flows great
When I write it with my pencil
But it's hard to be the champ
When your using food stamps
Old gallon size bottles are used for light lamps
Roach spray and rat clamps
Hoping things get better
Cuz when it's cold outside
We put on anyone's sweater
Man, I'm coming from the gutter
Where we die to rob and steal for real
Just to share with each other