[Verse 1]

Over paper with pyramids on their back

People hold chrome, with small cylinders attack

Bet you that they red octagon you in your tracks

Pull off in the whip, with the diamond on the back

And the sunroof top, thinking they gon' be a star

When their hood get hot, no relation to your car

But they won't be going far, they just make up dope dares

After L's in their circle, then they start to smoke squares

Pentagon chilling, politicians don't care

Long as the office with the oval can get the good glares

So the king and the queen never really understand

Why their hex ain't gone, and this is what the hood bears

No hearts, they hate on the living

So they try angles, that can hinder our vision

Six by eight, rectangular prisons

I know we better shape up when making decisions

It's like that...

[Hook]

(And they keeping me boxed in)

(And they keeping me boxed in like)

(And they keeping us boxed in)

(Why they keeping us boxed in like?)

[Verse 2]

Seven digits for your people with the hammers, man

Blam, cannons flash, sixteen in the handle, man

One in the chamber that'll shoot, like the camera man

When you done, only need three for the ambulance

Where I'm from, they rep that five with a passion, man

Move white, like avalanche, fiends at a trance

They buy the tens and the twenties and the fifties too

Cause they only want the highs man, like the Madden stance

Uh, now you ready to vacate

Cops tried to stop him, the last one ate eight

To the face, four five dispersed, and make waste

Five-0 get divided like weight to make base, uh

Hope they get em a new grind

Only reaching eighteen when gripping them two nines

Why I want to for? Like star on Lakers

Forty ounces instead of acres and yall dudes fine

Like that...

[Hook]

(And they tell me my days numbered)

(And they tell me my days numbered like)

(And they tell us our days numbered)

(Why they tell us our days numbered like?)

[Verse 3]

My hue, the same as Huey Newton's was

Black pride and gold crowns, I'm shooting for

Cause all my city need it, I want em on the dean's list

And hope they get their vanilla papers to hit the scene with

Not for the dutch right, brown paper crutch light

Blow purple till the room gray, that's a tough sight

When I know they could be read cause they such bright

Individuals, people would read if they just write

They wanna make your block light up, like Billie Jean

Push white through your system, like Midi keys

Take green from the victims, with the silver things

Make sure that they blew up, by any means

Color numbers shape, so the children take rule

Hope they take mind, that way they won't have to take tool

Uh, we giving you the playskool

So you won't play dead when learning to play cool

Like that...

[Hook]

(To all my pretty brown mothers)

(Shout out to all my white brothers)

(To all my strong black mothers)

(They define us by our color like...)