Verse 1

Yo, I seen this one video on BET

and it set the scene for what I really wannabe
Sellin crack to the black man, who's really gotta eat?
Jail cells or death, that's probably all I will achieve

I ain't from the streets, tab 100 dollar feasts
Sub urb, trigger fingers shots fresh like febreeze
A shot so loud, it cries to the blocks hearing em'

deaf to mommas screams, so it's really no comparison
Footseps follow it, poppa pill said, bottle it
Pain's a killer, swallow it, the words of an alcoholic

Slurred, but no one listens to the lyrics, %#@!
It's all about the beat, pleasantries and how the chorus is
I sold out shows, yeah, you know I live for this

Record labels all same, so no creative differences
No angle of substance, to every degree that `they're bumping it
but karma's a (*##$ and she covers her circumferences


(Chorus translated from portugeese)
My house has no door

My garden has no fruit
Who takes care of me is a bad herb
What you are listening to is my dead tongue

My treasure is a small guitar
Which happiness hides
If life won't give me a prescription

I'm not paying for the consultation

Verse 2


I met this girl, she was a photogenic prototype
and in my frame of mind, she fit so right

It's cinderella story, that will dwarf snow white
something like a blind man, finding love at first sight
She was worldly, which equates to the latitutde

North to South, she would travel to get back to you
East to west, she ecompassed my gratitude
Going nowhere, I'm tangled in her latin roots

She had a little sister, damn I miss her rough
She used watch me slipping in and out of wrist cuffs
Daddy wasn't there, cause daddy sick with cancer

ask myself why, she find my music for answers?
!@%*, !@^%, weed, speed, fiend, I say it, she hear it
What more do you need? She recitin my lyrics

spit some simple %#@!, didn't think she'd get into it
but little did I know she was under my influence


(Chorus translated from portugeese)

My house has no door

My garden has no fruit
Who takes care of me is a bad herb
What you are listening to is my dead tongue

My treasure is a small guitar
Which happiness hides
If life won't give me a prescription

I'm not paying for the consultation



Verse 3
Last time I caught her eye, it was death and despise
the flames never subside, watched her tempture rise

She cried a few rivers now the rivers are dry
No supply, sea her as she turns her last tide
She put the diss infront of grace, what a disgrace

and now makeup can't erase the ugly written on her face
the ink traces back to my pen, drawing em' bars
for what it's worth, it ain't more then price that she charge

Man to man, she's hopping in and out van-to-van
She's the first one to lay down in a one night, stand.
she'll blow you a kiss, and lick her swollen lips

Kids, she'll teach you what a real $#&@ing pimp is
It ain't glamourous, like the stains on her dress
she's got nothing left, nothing more, nothing less

I guess, I produced the irony on her behest
The song called ''life'' on the soundtrack of her death...

(Chorus translated from portugeese)


My house has no door
My garden has no fruit
Who takes care of me is a bad herb
What you are listening to is my dead tongue
My treasure is a small guitar

Which happiness hides
If life won't give me a prescription
I'm not paying for the consultation

Verse 4

It was never from the heart, improv flipping page to page
Soon to see her euology, ''who's line is it anyways?''
staring at her grave, knowing that I set the stage
for her death in this play, that you'll watch when you pay
I hate what I narate, and this musical is fake

I fed my people posion out a mainstream lake
I'm breaking down the fourth wall, hoping I fall
I would crawl, if I couldn't walk away from it all
Now I can't let her die in vain
the same vein that grips the threshold of pain
yeah, you know the pain.

I see beyond the frame to paint the picture bigger
I lift my people up and stopped dropping the word, ^!$$%.
I'm done with stereotypes, the type the stereo plays
that glorifies being locked in a cage, enslaved
This is my escape, you cannot relate
home is where the heart is , you are my estate.