On Da Block

People couldn't understand us now. The things We why we did them. Because the reasons were hidden away in those nine Years of growing up in an angry world. Murder Cases on my mind, check what I do is Crime And I'm tryna waste some time, Know I got this in my mind Swear it's Real on God, like Papa Clutch Read it like The reading books, now it's time to get a Buck Jump into the Chevy Times with my pump In the back of the truck Two Glocks in My lap 'cause a player gotta be strapped like Chaps Fuck a pistol, why can't I tote? 'Cause my pockets broke Niggas look at me like I'm a ho, they really don't know All I know is murder 'cause it run inside what's In my head This the style that's sellin' pounds And even iron bustas dead And I keep the Gym, help my jealous beat out my Bible 'cause The covers fit like gold jewels Sleep with this TEC because brought me scores of Easter eggs Used To think I'm tryin' to figure I'm a nice Guy But then you and shit, cops fuckin' raid Your cell if was livin' style, Would like my cash