[Talking In The Background]

Uh

The streets of my city be gritty
Young ^!$$%z pack plenty, and ain't never show no pity
Many die on streets of concrete, blasted from the heat

From under the seat, ^!$$%z just tryin' to make ends meat
Trying to eat, day to day livin' with no religion
Luxury cars, and this money got my full attention

School teachers and the preachers don't know what to teach us
They don't get a second look without them ghetto features
Created so the non pigmentated rated

!@^*ographic caught they children learn the words and say it
Save the monsters, but don't nobody know the lord
Status depends on the baddest %#@! you can afford

And look at me I'm in the middle of the confusion
Crime in my blood and I need a transfusion
Take it how you wanna take it

I gotta twist and break it
Make it shine to distinguish from the ones who fake it
and if it comes out raw, and uncontrollable

Money's foldable, $#&@ a hip-hop quoteable
Nobody felt what I was feeling when I wrote this %#@!
Broke this %#@!, but that ain't new so I can cope with this

Hope it get better for those who don't get a chance
To advance, and dig the %#@! I be saying
You know what might make what I say a little clearer

If motha$#&@ers judge the one they see in the mirror

[Talking Till The End]