Starin' at Marilyn Monroe's silhouette. While smokin' my first cigarette. Listenin' to Marvin ask his father about his death. How you shoot a nigga out, then shoot a nigga out?.
If Pirus and Crips all got along. They'd probably gun me down by the end of this song. Seem like the whole city go against me. Every time I'm in the street I hear.
The blood of this family it mingles. With the clay in this stinking riverbed. I tie the boy down and tear his mother's gown. It's okay, she's already dead.