Uh dear Mr. President what's happenin'? I'm writin' you because. Shit is still real fucked up in my neighborhood. Pretty much the same way, right around the time.
In the life we live as thugs. Everybody fuckin' wit' us so can't you see. It's hard to be a man. Ridin' wit' my guns in hand. . Why explain the game? Niggas ain't listenin'.