[Verse 1: Mike Mictlan]
It's all good
No it ain't
Cuz I'm thinking exactly the polar opposite
That's just something that we gotta say when we wanna cover up
And turn a bad thing positive
They shooting
But nobody made them look
They gotta ghetto life fetish
Middle class circus
At a lower class zoo
Quarter life conflict we all
Drug war veterans
Not everybody from the hood is a killer or a dealer or a villain
Everybody in the hood wanna do something better
For they life and they children
Anybody ever tell you different
They prolly lying tryna sell you something
Ain't nobody tryna hear that woofing
Not a motherfucker in this world'll tell me nothing
And somebody gonna play that game
They say it's only for the big boys and girls
But every game is really played the same
You gotta play it if you wanna get a turn
Hundred grand in the hand
What you look at the pistol end for?
Spin it, close your eyes
All you hear is a click
Click click click
Hear no clap
Feel no heat
Click then
[Hook]
Whatchu gonna do now?
Click lock shoot bang ya dead (man) got clapped
Give the man a hand he might get clapped
[Verse 2: Mike Mictlan]
It was a cruel summer
Now get ready for a cold winter
Hot burners from slow dinners
Fast streets
Private soldiers for dough lenders
Whiter the crack, the wider the white of the eyes in them
And the meth venom
The dope sent them down the river and through the hoods to red door clinic
It's no different from inherited wealth
But we only inherit the struggle that goes with it
Post no bills ghosts in a shell system
Scapegoats they worship the lone shepherd
Willingly manipulated -- low effort
But who gives a fuck when you're broke, frozen in gold
Somebody tell me why Abdulle got shot
Was it the feds? Was it a plot?
All I know is I'ma hold his spot
Don't even trip young bruvv
Hashmarks in the clot
Last seconds on the clock
Tell them to shoot for the moon
But not to aim at the block
Nothing about a Glock ever show me
How to work a plan
Claim my space
Call it State Of Mind-Kurdistan