A lot of people dying in my city

Crime rate it’s going up, it ain’t looking pretty

Some haters hit me up on the gram say they gon kill me

They gonna run in some problems, just know it’s with me

For when the shit gets sticky

Just know I got a choppa that holds 50

I ain’t killa but don’t temp me

See them niggas and start squeezing until it’s empty

For when the shit gets sticky

Just know I got a choppa that holds 50

I ain’t killa but don’t temp me

See them niggas and start squeezing until it’s empty

Growing up in the slums in these cold streets

Public housing rats and roaches plus there’s no heat

Cold nights, I was wrapped up in some cold sheets

I slept in class cause I never got no sleep

Mama had pay the bills, went short on groceries

Days I had to force myself to sleep cause I was hungry

Real talk we never really had no money

Mama came thru the next day to feed us something

Now I’m trapping turning nothing into something

Niggas dying in my city, only gun play

Shot a couple niggas red light on a one way

There’s a war outside in the 6, we don’t run games

Niggas kill you on your block broad day, on the front page

Cow boy city, op block look like a gun range

Civilians praying that the killing gon end one day

But this been happening for years, ain’t nun change

Cause it’s real when you living in the field

You either make it, go to jail, or you get killed

The good die young so my youngins pack the steel

Come to my city, niggas getting shot for real

But now niggas tryna to rap and get a deal

But they be tryna kill the rappers getting deals

A lot of people dying in my city

Crime rate its going up it ain’t looking pretty

Some haters hit me up on the gram say they gon kill me

They gon run in some problems, just know it’s with me

For when the shit gets sticky

Just know I got a choppa that holds 50

I ain’t killa but don’t temp me

See them niggas and start squeezing until it’s empty