You call me a junky cause I'm smokin' crack but you're the one I run to when I want me a sack.
You stand on the corner every night and everyday serving to the ones that you call a "J"
But you're in the game just like I am...just as addicted and don't give a damn
Tryin' to make a dollar anyway that you can...dodgin' and hidin' from the police man.
You wear a white T so that you can stand out but everybody knows what you're all about.
Everybody in the hood know what you do, who you associate with and who's in your crew.
So why you come off like you're all that when you're on the corner out sellin' crack.
You're not making much money and you don't have a car but you run around the hood like you're a super star.
You may not smoke crack but you lace your weed with that white powder but you talk about me.
How could you call me something out of my name when you're caught up in the same ol' game.
Don't think you're special or any better than me we're both living our lives in the heart of the streets
Tryin' to escape this harsh reality giving up on hope and our fantasies
So when I step up to you with my cash in hand don't try to rationalize or understand
Just serve me right and go about your way...don't call me a crackhead or a "J".