[Verse 1]

It's 1995, a lot of brothers done died

A lot of sisters, them mothers, them fathers

And aunties, and grandmas left to cry

Now he nothing but a memory, used to be a friend to me

Said he'd never die, but now he's six feet deep, with a tombstone

Oh my god my brothers gone

And I don't even fucking think I can go on

Cause it hurts to lose someone you love

To this madness and killing, murder, shoot-em-up, this game of drugs

Doctors pumped his chest, my daddy said let him rest

A team rolled up and put him to his final test

Hands got cold, god rest his soul

He walked out his body to another fucking episode

Then the window opened, then they put him in the final frontier

You know what happened in the end...

[Chorus: Master P & King George]

I wish I could seen him before he died

Talk to him, but when they gone thats when we realize

I wish I could seen him before he died

Talk to him, but when they gone thats when we realize

Front, back, side to side

But who would be the next victim to roll in that black ride

Front, back, side to side

It might be you to be the next victim to take a ride in the black ride

[Verse 2]

Just another homicide for the West County Times

Fools gettin took out the game at the fuckin drop of a dime

The game's gettin' deep, I toss in my sleep

But would a young nigga live to see 2-3?

Killing dont phase me, fools think I'm crazy

Muslims on every corner, handin' out black daisies

Name scratched off the wall, ain't no final call

Used to slang bean pies, now it's 'bout that white ball

Only fifteen, already got fiends

And working the ghetto like Jack Stark could work some beans

Livin off a high, gold ones on this ride

Bitches on the side, but only livin to retire

Ain't that a shame, took him out the game

Same fool we used to roll with, yelled out his name

Popped him in his chest, didn't wear his vest

Same day his kid took his first step, he took his last breath

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]

Who's under the white sheet? Somebody bring the yellow tape

The ghetto took him under, today will be a sad day

Ain't no time to cry, no time to shed no tears

You know the way he died the same way he lived

Who was his killer? Found him dead on his knee

Same room he left his wife and kid left to grieve

Hopin' that this a nightmare, one pop and he's outta there

God rest his soul, left his kid in a wheelchair

Stabbed for his life, his daddy took the ghetto flight

And at the funeral, mama say: "Boy, you know, it's gonna be alright..."

But now he's gone, ain't nobody to run his home

Another kingpin stripped from that ghetto throne

Lost at the game of life, ain't no time to think twice

The same fool he trusted, and now sleeps with his wife

Tagged his toe, slapped him in the ziplock

Another nigga flip-flop, popped while slanging that crack rock

Now he's gone, "Amazing Grace" his last song

Six ballers carried out the church to take his ass home

4 limos, 3 Cutlass, 2 El Doggs, a cop and the hearse

Everybody had their lights on!

When the straps pops to lower him down in the grave

See it was sad the way his fucking family misbehave

His family crying, but everybody gots to die

But you won't feel what they feel, until somebody in your family dies

[Chorus: Master P & King George]

I wish I could seen him before he died

Talk to him, but when they gone that's when we realize

I wish I could seen him before he died

Talk to him, but when they gone that's when we realize

Front, back, side to side

But who will be the next victim to roll in that black ride

Front, back, side to side

It might be you the next victim to take a ride in the black ride

Front, back, side to side

It might be me the next victim to take a ride in the black ride

[Outro: Master P]

Y'all know all this motherfucking black on black crime got to cease

This goes out to all my motherfucking dead soilders out there

My little brother Kevin Miller

Vanguard, Bernell Jackson, My homie Dee Willis

Dana Parks, Pimp Daddy, Plan Bee, Gangsta Irvin

Yall know all this motherfucking gang-bangin got to stop

Rivertown gettin hotter than a motherfucker

All my homies out here in Richmond, ya know what I'm sayin?

All my niggas out there in The Manor, Easter Hills

Niggas in Parchester, P7

All my motherfucking dead soldiers yall gonna be missed

And all my motherfucking homies down here in New Orleans

Calliope Projects, motherfucking murder rate

Down here higher than a motherfucker

Yall gone learn to when we all motherfucking gone

Let me say goodbye to all my niggas in

Texas, Washington, LA

My niggas out there in Kansas City

Cinnitatti, Detroit, Alabama, Oklahoma

And to all you other motherfucking niggas

That don't understand what this shit is about

We just gonna reminse, smoke a fat ass spliff

Let this motherfucking beat roll, cause all the real niggas is missed

Ya know what I'm sayin?

I wish I could seen they before they died

Talk to 'em but now they gone, but gotta we realize