questions pop in my head,

i dont understand,

this life is hard and cruel,

i feel the pain,

i fear the rules,

when i was young,

where was my mom?

lost in the dope game.

lost to drugs,

why was this life so wrong?

drugz were normal,

red's,

blue's,

go hard,

this life exists in ghettos,

where long ago i lived,

from drive bys,

to R.I.P. 's,

your life begins a vicious cycle,

 that started with your mom,

 now your in to drugs so bad,

you dont know how to stop,

then one day,

you find a gun,

a bullet in your keep,

you put the gun to your head,

now your dead,

your homies come to your funeral,

they talk of your dreams and hopes,

they tell amazing stories,

they say "R.I.P. lost soul,"

but once they leave,

their back to drugs and feinds,

and drive byes that die in months,

one day somone will end this cycle,

one day that will be us.